


A Little Princess

by BabyDollKurai



Category: A Little Princess - Frances Hodgson Burnett, Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types, Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Adoption, Animal Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Death, F/F, Misgendering, Period-Typical Racism, Punishment, School, Tiny Cupcake, child hollstein, eventual hollstein, no supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5176082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyDollKurai/pseuds/BabyDollKurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11-year-old Laura Hollis must come to terms with having to adjust to a select seminary boarding school for young ladies in 1914 London, after her father leaves to fight during World War I.<br/><br/>She must also learn to deal with a very snarky and very rude little girl named Mircalla, who calls herself...Carmilla?<br/> <br/><br/>(Featuring a feisty, extra tiny cupcake, an angry young debutante, a non-binary child, and a baby mother hen.)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All For The Princess

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a pretty story. There will be death and loss and the implication of the ugliness of human nature. But there is beauty and kindness there as well.  
> Majorly triggering material will be mentioned beforehand in each chapter, however I will refrain from censoring the story itself. This is a “mature” story. Not only in content, but also in its concepts and execution. I don’t mean to undermine anyone’s intelligence, but a mature mind would be most suited for the content presented. 
> 
> There will be a link to a song that reflects the chapter's content before every chapter. You can choose to listen to it during, beforehand, or after reading, but they directly correlate with the chapter presented. So be warned, the tracks may contain some SPOILERS.  
>   
> -BabyDoll

CHAPTER I: [All For the Princess](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvyhYxFFdF0)

 

An eager little girl sat with her father in an Arabian horse-driven cab that clucked along the stony road. She sat with her feet tucked under her, hidden by her ankle-length white pearl dress, as if she had just returned from mass. She leaned towards the yellow window of the cab to stare out at the passing Gothic buildings with an old-fashioned inquiry in her large eyes. A stream of wind flew in through a rather large crack in the window and she squinted, her honey brown eyes watering.

A heavy night autumn fog was hanging low onto the worn road. Laura could make out a rather large metal-cast sign at the front of a similarly eerie gate, where the carriage stopped accordingly to manually open it.

   **_Miss Morgan_**

            _Select Seminary for Young Ladies_

 

Her father kept her tucked into his side even as the carriage slowed to a stop, jerking forward and back again.

Although it wasn’t nearly cold enough for winter clothing, her father had required Laura to wear her small simple white gloves and large white beret that covered her ears. The carriage door was opened and she hopped down to the grown despite the protests of both the cab driver and her father.

“Laura, dear, do be careful--- _no_ , _do not jump_ -! Reginald, get her luggage, my good man--- _Laura_!”

Her father was a large, muscled, gruff man, not a white strand to be found atop his head or his full beard. And although he meant an intimidating front, he had an embarrassingly large soft spot for his only daughter.

Laura herself had never been one to listen to many specific rules to do with keeping calm, acting like a proper young lady, or general steps to survival---but what candle did those hold to the excitement of exploration? To discovery? Laura’s inquisitive gaze turned into something much wider as she gazed up at the pretty castle. Well, it was more of a mansion, like her grandfather’s winter house. But Laura liked to imagine that every large place was a castle, where she could explore and find discover secrets and make friends with dragons and princesses and---

“ _Laura_! Don’t scour the trellis wall just yet, you little rascal!”

Laura froze as her leg reached to hook into the next foothold. She heard her father chuckle heartily behind her before she was lifted by her small waist and turned to find herself face to face with her father.

He was inquiring her sternly but Laura knew he was secretly pleased with her. “I needed to asses the B.F.N, captain! If the Axis powers decided to attack from the front, we’d be completely vulnerable at our sides!”  

Captain Hollis almost choked on his own saliva at his daughter’s language. Maybe she’d been spending a little too much time around the fleets… Captain Hollis nodded readily. “Yes yes, very good observation, Lieutenant Hollis. Let's scan the inside for allies, shall we?”

Laura grinned as she clambered down her father's front down to the ground, and stepped up to the large embroidered Oliver wooden doors of the front of the school.

The buildings were rather large--- even for a boarding school meant to house just over 20 students--- it's grey-bricked exterior and red shading made it give off a rather ominous atmosphere, and it's pale green tiled roofs seemed miles away from the ground. The two buildings connected into each other at a side; everything was surrounded by a great big black fence, with security spikes at the tops made to look like Gothic decor. It's once green lawn and fields were now a dried tan color, and the leaves of once full, historic elements of nature were gathering sadly on the ground.

Laura didn't seem to mind the school’s dreary exterior. She imagined it was much bigger on the inside.

In time she would find her imagination was correct.

Captain Hollis had already used the lion-plated door-knocker and the odd pair waited while their luggage was being hauled up the concrete steps by the carriage driver.

In a moment, the giant wooden slabs were delicately swung open, revealing the beautifully tall figure of a woman.

The first thing Laura noticed about the woman was a mess of bright orange shiny hair pulled together as nearly as possible into a low ponytail, tied with a long grey ribbon. Her tired eyes were strikingly blue, and the smile on her face was motherly and sincere.

Laura was slightly starstruck by the look of the woman.

Her beautiful curls bounced as she lowered herself to Laura’s height and adjusted the white beret atop her small head. “Hello there. You must be Laura.”

Laura grinned widely in return. “I am! Lieutenant Hollis, reporting for duty, ma’am!”

The woman gave a wink to Captain Hollis, who was standing behind his daughter. She laughed sweetly. “Well Lieutenant Hollis, you're needed in the main bunker right away, then I'll give you a personal tour of the fort.”

Laura nodded determinedly. She decided this woman was very good.

Captain Hollis spoke up from behind his daughter as they were invited in. “Thank you, Mrs. Perry. I won't stay long; I'm just here to see that Laura settles comfortably. I'm worried about the potential separation anxiety she might face.” He glanced over at his daughter, who was gazing around the mansion inquisitively from a few yards away. “I've never been apart from her for very long.”

Mrs. Perry smiled fondly. “Not to worry, Captain Hollis. The Morgan Mansion has all of the latest accommodations for educating and entertaining children, and ensuring a proper transition into a young lady. I'm sure she was very popular at home; she'll fit right in here.”

Captain Hollis scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I would hope so. Laura’s a little...odd. I’d imagine her upfront charisma would be a bit unsettling to the prim young ladies that have been seasoned to exclude strangeness.” He removed his cap accordingly. “I do worry.”

Laura, meanwhile, had been gathering her bearings. She'd assessed the main grand hall of the entrance, that gave view to twin staircases on either of its sides. A beautifully crafted crystal chandelier hung from the tall ceiling, glistening in the natural light coming in through select stained windows. One side of the hall lead through a wide archway; it was likely a dining hall of some sort. To the other side, another twin archway. In the back of her mind she knew her father was far out of sight, but Laura’s curiousness overcame the potential fear. Laura had been correct, the interior of the mansion was enormous. The ceilings stretched well over 15 feet, with dark oak furniture all dusted and polished to a tee, and expensive looking hand-embroidered rugs, and white fluffy carpet that seemed to stretch for miles in the room she was in. Laura imagined that it was a rather large tea room; her aunt had had one at home. White leather was stretched over three separate loveseats in the middle of the room, with accompanying side-tables and a large coffee table placed askew in the middle of it all. A large mantled gas-powered fireplace was clicking away at burning wood at the far right of the room, and the walls were coated with dark Browns and reds of old-century themed wallpaper. Laura crossed the room by its sides, not wanting to dirty the snowy carpet with her outside shoes. Her tiny hands trailed along the thick walls as she tiptoed along the edge of the caret, sliding this way and that to achieve the best possible angle.

    She lept out of the far framed archway once she had reached the other side of the room, and gave a beaming smile of accomplishment as she glanced back towards the still-sparkling room. Laura found herself in a large hallway. A large, state-of-the-art kitchen was right across from the tearoom, To the far down to the right of the hallway was a rather small set of staircases that lead seemingly to nowhere. She trotted over curiously.

Her hands grabbed the side of the railing on the first set of staircases and leaned over the edge, peering upward. She couldn’t make out anything but heavy darkness. A low whistle blew in from the half-opened window to the side of the hall.

“An attic?” Laura wondered aloud, her inhibition, (or, what was left of it) disappearing slowly as her small shoes found themselves moving slowly up the inclining staircase; the steps creaked heartily.

Eventually, after the ascent had lead her just past the first set of steps, she found herself peering up again into the borderline inviting blackness. Laura had never been one to be afraid of the dark. Why, she wondered, would one fear the unknown? If it were to happen, it was to happen. There was no point in worrying about every consequence. Laura bounced on her toes, stopping right before the fourth step. Then why wouldn’t she dare venture any further?

Suddenly, strong hands were clasping her waist and lifted her up and off of the staircase.

“There you are, princess! Off of that, now.”

Laura was set back down and she rubbed her sweaty palms on the fabric of her dress. “Papa there’s something up there. I can feel it!”

Mrs. Perry was quickly at Captain Hollis’ side. “Laura, up there is not a place for little girls like you. You’d best stay where you belong.” She lent down to adjust Laura’s beret. “Now, we have to get moving. The Dean is eagerly awaiting to meet you.

As Mrs. Perry led them back down the hallway towards the front of the house, Laura took in the heavy black sheer doors that she had not previously noticed, nestled directly between the two main stair cases. Mrs. Perry stepped aside after the had opened one of the two doors, politely smiling at the pair.

Captain Hollis straightened his coat, Laura saw, and she flattened down the gained wrinkles on the pearl sheer of her dress. She wasn’t sure of what it was that dawned over them as they stepped into the dark room, but Laura knew that it wasn’t good.

Not at all.

The dim light didn’t care to greet them; shadows casted over the room and from what she could make out, there was a rather stern looking woman sitting in the middle of the room behind a large 18th century desk in a rather high-spined leather chair. Everything in the room was neat and kept, artifacts of various time periods aligned the dusted shelves on either sides of the room.

Laura’s small hand found the thick fabric of her father’s uniform slacks and she gripped tightly as they walked, suddenly not wanting to leave her father’s side even as they sat down in individual settees just a foot away from the desk and a foot apart from each other. Everything seemed very precise.

The dean was a rather tall woman, Laura could tell, even while she was sitting. Her posture was rigid and un-moving, bleach blonde hair tied into a bun so tight and perfect that Laura wondered if the woman could even blink without it hurting. She began to speak with her father, Laura knew, but she couldn’t seem to comprehend what the exchange was about. She recognized it may have been in relation to herself, but she couldn’t tell. The woman’s voice was unpleasantly sharp and low. Her octave was high, and seemed agonizingly faux in nature. It made Laura want to clamp her hands over her ears and yell very loudly, even as the words were slightly muffled by her beret.

Laura opted for staring at the ground, her hands fisting in her lap. She began to wonder if she would really like this place. Optimism was her middle name (not literally of course; it was actually Jane) but this room alone seemed to be chipping away her exterior like a dull knife. Mrs. Perry seemed like haze of motherly warmth that Laura had known only a few moments in her short lifetime that was truly genuine. Others had pitied her supplying a fleeting moment of care, before they too left her alone...

“Go ahead, Laura.”

The small girl’s head whipped up to her father. She stared, wide-eyed, not having heard what was asked of her. A brief glance of panic towards the Dean told Laura that something was expected. She pleaded with her eyes to have her father repeat what he had said.

The Dean rose an expectant, perfect eyebrow at Laura.

The small girl cowered into herself. Never before had she found herself perfectly speechless, save for the few months that she'd spent in absolute silence after-

“Miss Hollis, do tell! I'm quite sure you have developed many theories after reading such... _adult literature_.”

It suddenly clicked in Laura’s brain that Ms. Morgan was inquiring about her Kipling reading. She spoke almost reverently. “Yes, ma’am. I....I don't believe that any of next year's literature nominations have met the criteria set by Mr. Nobel himself. Laura’s small hands suddenly felt clammy and foreign as she wrung them out under the thick wood of the desk.

The Dean’s brow rose in surprise. “Oh? Do tell. I would have bet Romain Rolland would be the one to earn the right.”

Laura shook her small head.”According to Nobel's statutes, the Nobel Prize can be, in that kind of case, reserved until the next year.” Laura found the strength to glance up towards the Dean for a fraction of a second before her eyes darted down to her lap again. “Because of those reasons, I think. Maybe....”

A sheet of deathly silence fell over the room and Laura cringed. Clearly Ms. Morgan disagreed with her views.

A pause.

“What an _original child_!” Ms. Morgan exclaimed through her carefully practiced grin. “What a _darling creature_!”

Captain Hollis nodded approvingly, smiling down at Laura. “Yes, my little Laura has developed an unusual cleverness. Her imagination and curiousness is one of the most developed I have ever seen.” Captain Hollis chuckled heartily. “The housewives that resided at the Indian base absolutely adored the child. Such good people.”

”Well then, it seems we have a little princess on our hands!” Ms. Morgan was a fraction away from shrill as her steely gaze shifted to the chair adjacent to Captain Hollis.

Laura’s father knew none the wiser, and smiled heartily back. “Indeed. My little Laura should be guarded and cared for at all costs.” He nodded sternly. “No expense shall be spared.”

The Dean’s tone reminded Laura of the officers that he father worked with. Stern, expectant, and right about ready to spit in your face.

Laura wanted nothing more than to disappear into nothingness much like the mist that was gathering outside. She was ready to shake her head ashamedly when a light tap was heard against the closed doors of the office room.

Laura noticed Ms. Morgan’s perfect jaw clench before she responded to the sound. Laura hesitantly made note of the trait.

“Enter.”

Mrs. Perry’s lovely head of curls popped in. “Forgive my interruption but Captain Hollis’ transport just rung. His carriage will be arriving shortly.” Perry’s bright blue found Laura’s own sadly. “I expect Captain Hollis would like a moment alone with his daughter.”

Laura heard the Dean give a crude, short laugh.

“Yes, children are so dependent. The separation might prove too much for her feeble heart. After all, the trauma she experienced after her mother’s death might had already-”

Laura’s small, gloved hands gripped the polished wooden armrests on either side of the chair. She felt them slip. “I should like to bid farewell to my father in private.” Laura noticed the Dean’s brow raised, astonished at being effectively cut off by a pint-size child.

Laura felt very proud of herself; her voice, however small, had not wavered during her request. No, it wasn't a request.

_It was a command._

A grim line of a smile formed unwillingly on the face of Ms. Morgan. She nodded once, a robotic gesture likely developed from years in acquaintance with the rich and powerful. “Please.” She waved a delicate looking towards the door, and Laura and her father stood politely.

Laura had never before felt so relieved to have exited a mere room.

She watched as her father gave his sincerest regards to Ms. Morgan and she nodded in all the right places, assuring Captain Hollis that his daughter will only be treated with the utmost care and finest opportunities.

Ms. Perry led them up the main left staircase of the house, up towards a long hallway with large, white, embroidered doors on either side. The tension grew heavy like a sheet of cotton wool that nearly choked Laura. In a few minutes, she realized, her father would be gone. The thought didn’t shock her as much as she assumed it could, but the fact that she would be surrounded by goodness for the next few month made her more confident in the situation.

    The strikingly beautiful woman stopped in front of a hallway of similarly-styled doors on either sides of the walls. She smiled politely at the father and daughter, not wanting to impose her presence on the two as they went to say their goodbyes. “This is your room, Laura. Your roommate's name is Miss Elizabeth Anne Speilsdorf; she’s boarded with us for a few years now and would be happy to help you settle in.”

Laura nodded accordingly, doing her best to keep up a brave front. Her hands awkwardly fiddled on the doorknob of her new room while her papa and Ms. Perry exchanged parting pleasantries.

“Yes Captain, I’m sure we will. I wish you only the best of luck and pray for your safe return.”

Laura waited until Ms. Perry had retreated back down the mahogany-railed staircase.

The interior of the boarding room was almost as beautiful as the entrance of the mansion. Everything was clean and polished on both sides of the room, although one side in particular looked as though it was occupied. White sheer canopies fell over two twin beds on both sides of the room, complete with matching side-tables, dressers, and 18th century writing desks. A large, curtained window rested on the right wall of the large room, where the shining glory of daylight seemed to seep in through the dark clouds that had shrouded the skies upon their arrival. Laura gaped in awe. The room was truly beautiful. And so, she voiced her thoughts.

“Papa it's so PRETTY!” Laura ran about the room, her beret discarded on the ground as she examined every nook and cranny. She turned to her father, grinning, her missing bottom tooth clearly visible. “Would you imagine any secret passages? I mean, this mansion is quite old; there's probably some pretty suitable hiding places. And that about the food? Do you think we’ll have cookies with every meal? My teacher back home said something along those lines, yes I think she did---frosted ones! Papa do you-” Laura was panting now, out of breath from her own excitement. She turned to see her father resting atop the window seat that accompanied the large window. She huffed and trotted over. “Papa, are you listening?”

Captain Hollis was regarding his child with equal measures of pride and sadness. "Will you be alright here, my little princess?"

Laura wrinkled her nose at that. The idea of being a princess was never all that appealing to her. She’d much rather be a brave, heroic knight who could not only save someone else, but would help them to defend themselves as well. Surely papa would understand her way of thinking and even consider it more appealing than a boring story. Laura loved stories; she hated to see any type of story to go unnoticed. “I think. papa,” she began, placing both of her little hands on either sides of her father’s gruff face. “That I would like to be a knight.” Much to her surprise, her papa chuckled heartily before scooping her up into his lap. “My brave little Laura…” He patted down her frazzled gold locks. “If you should like to be a knight, then you may. But understand that with being a knight, comes many responsibilities. Ones that entail much more danger than being a princess.”

    Laura nodded readily, her faux curls bouncing. “Yes, papa. I would still be a knight.”

Her father sighed somewhat defeatedly, but he did not let his emotion show. “Just be sure to promise me, Knight Hollis, that you will try not to get into too much danger.”

He brushed her soft hair away from her face. “Bravery does not translate into stupidity. And my little girl is anything but dim.”

The little girl huffed. “Well I should hope not! Why, I probably know more than the older boy next door. Rotten boy.” Her round cheeks puffed. “He pulled my hair the other day, you know!”

    Captain Hollis listened to his daughter with great fondness in his eyes. He’d memorized every expression, every temperament of his daughter’s being since the day she had entered the world. The room and accommodations were nice enough---he had made sure of this. He would spend every last dollar if it meant that Laura was safe and happy. Captain Hollis smiled sadly. This all meant that he would be separated from his quaint little comrade very soon.

    Laura was unaware of her father’s dilemma. She had important things to say, and felt as though this was the right time to do so. She expressed herself as best she could. “It hurt, papa, it did!” Laura rubbed the spot on her scalp as if she could still feel its sting.

    Captain Hollis chuckled again. “He means to say that is is fond of you.”

Laura breathed deeply. This was her chance. “Well, I’m not of him!” Laura slid off her father’s lap with vigor. “I don’t believe I’ll ever be fond of a boy.” she said, somewhat mumbling, her dark hazel eyes trained on the expensive black carpet. “My friends at home write affectionate notes to the blonde boys at school. Absolutely covered in crude hearts and ribbons and locks. I don’t understand it. I don’t feel anything when I look at a boy. Emptiness at best I would guess.”

Papa Hollis considered this for a long while before speaking again. He could tell that Laura was quite serious about this issue, and perhaps she even felt conflicted about speaking about this with him.

Laura felt her small palms grow sweaty, as if she were admitting something secret about herself.

    “I love you, my Laura.” Her father said, drawing her near by her small wrists. “And I will love whomever you choose to love as well. But please,” he poked her chest lightly with his pinky. “don’t keep all of that love to yourself. Your love is meant to be shared with the world or it will swell and deflate with loneliness.”

Laura considered this in turn. “Then I shall love the loneliest of people most. Because that means that they have more love to share than anyone else.”

Captain Hollis smiled down at his daughter with  great pride. How she understood so much in so little time of being on this Earth, he couldn’t even comprehend. He spoke silently to his wife. ‘How proud you would be of our daughter, Anna.’

“Well then.” He brushed back her dark honey locks. “You must look your very best if you hope to find a soulmate. Messy girls don’t get to find their soulmate.”

Laura huffed. “Yes papa. I scrub my face and pin my hair into curls every night. Though they never seem to stay.” Laura tugged at a lock of her long hair, watching as only the ends bounced back into a loose curl while the top half remained straightened. “Although I wouldn’t mind terribly if some of these dresses were to go poof!”

    “Now there’s not much I can do about that. Besides,” he took her tiny hand in front of him and twirled her involuntarily. “you look absolutely beautiful. A proper young lady.”

Laura huffed, defeated. “You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to run in a dress, papa; it’s practically a crime!” She wrinkled her nose at the clean white ensemble.

Captain Hollis nodded knowingly. Lighter colored outfits never lasted his Laura more than a few weeks.

    “No matter.” She smoothed out the wrinkled portions of her dress dutifully. “Besides, it doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as when Mama would wear it…”

Captain Hollis’ heart sunk. He knew that Laura usually preferred to keep silent about her mother. This had been a big day for her indeed. He tucked his hand under her small chin to lift it upwards. Her large, bright eyes still shone with bright twinkles despite her gloom. “You are part of her, Laura. She’s right by your side wherever you go. A beautiful angel fluttering her wings beside you even in the darkest of nights.”

Laura’s lashes fluttered shut, but try as she might she couldn’t feel the flutter her father was describing so vividly. “It’s very hard, papa. Is she really there?”

Captain Hollis released his daughter's small hands to search his front pocket. After unclasping the front royal blue button, he slipped his hand inside and pulled out a small silver chain with a dangling locket sliding to adjust to the gravity. The locket twinkled as the locket untwisted itself and Captain Hollis held it up to his daughter.

Laura cupped her hands as her papa slipped it into her palms. The small silver locket was worn but masterfully designed, in a delicate heart-shape with a mirror centerpiece. Her eyes widened curiously. “It’s so pretty, papa!”

Captain Hollis gently retrieved the locket from his daughter and undid the small chain clasp with careful fingers. “It was your mother’s. I gave this to her on our wedding night.” He placed around Laura’s neck and slipped her hair out from under the chain. The small heart rested beautifully on the soft skin of her collarbone. Laura grinned before twirling. “She’s with me.”

Captain Hollis watched his daughter, a small, brave smile upon us own gruff face. He would long for his little girl dearly as he awaited the outcome of the war. As the two embraced tightly, and with the combination of the radiator and each other, it was difficult to imagine that in just a few weeks, Captain Hollis would be tucked away in wet, dirty trenches with bodies strewn over him and a rifle clenched in his fists. They silently prayed that God would favor the British.

       

* * *

 

Laura stared down from her windowsill down to the street, where the buggy driver was busy stacking her father’s luggage up neatly. From her warm, homey boarding room, Laura could see the front of the school at an angle, where her father and Mrs. Perry were conversing by the large double doors of the front. After a moment, she watched her father as he tipped his Captain’s cap to Mrs. Perry, who had her handkerchief flowing in a traditional farewell fashion. Her father turned up to Laura’s window. Laura knew that he could not see her small figure sitting at behind the grimy window, but he knew she was there regardless. He raised his hand in a solid salute, the tips of his fingers resting stiffly against his forehead. Laura scrambled to her feet at the gesture, blinking her eyes rapidly when she felt a thin film cast over her eyes. She stiffened her arm in a proper salute, her short legs straightening and head held high. Her eyes met her fathers through the yellow glass. Laura needed to be strong. She would not cry. She could not cry. No matter how much it pained her little gentle heart, she needed to be a big girl until her father returned.

She held her salute until her father lowered his own.

And after a brief moment, her father was out of sight, having slipped into the metal-cased buggy and becoming nothing more than a pinpoint on the horizon. Her wrist had ached from waving, but her cheeks remained dry, to her greatest pride. She knew her papa would relish in her bravery.

Laura hopped off of the window seat, and nodded to herself.

 

* * *

Laura decided that she rather liked her new roommate.  
“We’ll be roommates.” Elizabeth shook Laura’s hand with vigor, making Laura’s small arm flop about. “Which means that as of now, we’re best friends.”

Laura’s head cocked to the side. She wasn’t sure if Elizabeth was supposed to be her best friend, but she would try her best for sure. She would try her best for those who needed her. “Alright, Elizabeth. I’ll be your friend.”

Elizabeth laughed, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder only to have it bounce back into place. “Only mum and dad call me that.”

Laura felt heat rise up in her soft cheeks. How was she supposed to know what to call her new friend? She intended to ask, but the fancy blonde spoke up beforehand.

“Call me Betty. That name is _très moderne_ , don’t you think?” she spoke again in crude French, and Laura giggled. This girl was truly bouncy.

“Professor Lillibridge taught me that. You’ll probably have to learn it, but don’t worry! I’ll teach you!” Betty flipped her hair again before strutting across the room to her dresser. “Since we’re gonna be best friends, I’ll let you borrow my things. People keep giving me all of this pretty jewelry and clothes, it’s oh too much!” Betty daintily waved her hand in the air, in a faux snobby manner, before reaching up on her tiptoes to snatch a few beaded necklaces in her tiny fist. She held them up to Laura with a smile and a raised brow.

    Laura skipped over to her own bed and plopped down into a sitting position. “Why?”

Betty laughed, placing various necklaces around her own neck and slipping on fancy-looking rings. “Whatcha mean, why?”

    Laura kindly declined the assortment of necklaces and earrings Betty offered her, then shrugged. “Well, don’t you find it a little strange that you’re getting so many things all of a sudden?” Laura’s head cocked as she watch Betty twirl around in front of her, the necklaces glittering in the light of the open window. “Why do you think they gave them to you?”  

 Betty stopped twirling slowly, staring at the wall with a curiously blank gare. Betty thought for a minute, as if she’d never questioned the sudden influx of gifts before. She shook her head, pigtails bouncing. “It’s clearly because I’m so much fun to be around; the teachers just seem to appreciate my amazing nature!” she said, matter-o-factly.

Laura nodded in agreement. Surely, she supposed, that nothing negative could come from receiving so many nice gifts.

And so, Laura decided to accept Betty’s offer and indulge in the finer things, making sure to twirl this way and that so that the sparkling jewels were sure to blind.

 

* * *

 

After bed, Laura was forced to face herself in the mirror. She pressed her hands up to her cheeks, squishing them in. Laura always thought her face was a bit too round. When she’d asked, many insisted it was due to her younger age---some had even called it “baby fat” which she did not appreciate. The youngest member of her school, a tiny blonde four-year-old named Lottie Jeremoth, was only slightly smaller than Laura herself. She huffed with displeasement, before shuffling off to her room again.

She yawned, rubbing at her travel-tired eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown as she made her way back to her shared room.

A faint, shrill voice brought her back to attention. She frowned, turning back around and nearing the staircase that led back down to the ground floor. There it was again; someone was yelling. Laura's investigative tenancies were flaring, but somewhere, deep within her mind, a small voice was telling her to leave it be. To go to bed.

Laura ignored it.

The yelling, she realized as she began her slow, quiet trek down the noble staircase, was not simple yelling---it was arguing. Her journey to the bottom of the stairs rewarded her with a few audible choice words.

“ _...not appropriate, unacceptable--- do you want….end up like them?!_ ”

Laura squinted, even in the dark of the mansion she could make out the open door of the Dean’s quarters. The Dean was standing in her usual rigid form, towering over one of the upholstered hairs that Laura and her father had sat in hours before. Laura could not tell what was currently occupying the seat was that was the target of the Deans’ vehemence, but she could see the top of a small head of dark raven hair that just barely poked out from the back of the chair.

Laura squinted again, and she could spy the edge seams of a perfectly placed uniform bow at the back of the small head, one that all the girls were required to wear with their school uniforms. ‘A student, then’ she supposed. But as of this time, all students were required to be in their beds...why would one be allowed to stay awake? The person sitting in the chair was no bigger than Laura’s own size. It couldn't possibly be an administrator.

“ _You have an obligation here, Mircalla. If you cannot fulfill the simple duties required of you, I'll see that you're left out on the side of an empty road for those disgusting cash-hauling brutes-”_

Laura had stumbled on the edge of a finely-sewn carpet in an attempt to get closer to the office. She froze, staring wide eyed into the open office. In an instant, the Dean’s eyes seemingly found Laura’s terrified pair through the darkness. Laura clamped her tiny hand over her own mouth to keep from screaming out in the night. Her entire body was screaming bloody murder at her to move and move quickly, but she was frozen. Another pair of eyes strained through the darkness; they were deeply chocolate and glowed beautifully with the faintest traces of light that caught on them. Laura’s hurried heartbeat nearly came to an immediate standstill.

In an instant, the Dean strode forward, and Laura thought she was done for.

But the Dean did not pass the heavy, black double doors of her office, but slammed them shut; a deadlock could be heard from the other side of the doors.

Laura bolted up the stairs.

She didn't dare take another breath until she had shut her boarding room door and threw herself under the covers of her soft bed. Never before had she felt so little control over her own body. She laid panting, perfectly still, and could faintly register Betty’s loud snoring coming from the other side of the room.

‘ _Go to sleep._ ’ She told herself. _‘Just go to sleep.’_

But her eyes remained pinned open, blown pupils glued to the ceiling.

After she's managed to fully calm herself, she checked the grandfather clock to the side Betty’s bed. It read 2 a.m.

She released a choked sob despite her best efforts. And on that night, Laura cried.

[For The Princess](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvyhYxFFdF0)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Despite hailing from Great Britain, Laura and her father do not necessarily speak with a British accent.  
> -Most, if not all characters from the original series will show up in the story at some point. 
> 
> -I would request 5 kudos for the continuation of this fic, because I understand that it is not something that will appeal to all readers.  
> I am VERY excited for this particular story, and have the entire fiction map written out already, so there won't be any spontaneous changes. This will prevent abandonment as well.  
> Thank you, loves.  
> -BabyDoll


	2. The Miss Morgan School For Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Laura Hollis makes some new friends in her school, and maybe even some new enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, dearies.  
> -Proper pronouns will be discussed at a later time.  
> -Because of the school's size, the children, though many of different ages, attend the same classes with different levels of difficulty provided.

Chapter 2: [The Miss Morgan School For Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0bHlRmiNFk)

Pinpoints of light broke through the darkness of the dream, and in an instant, Laura was awoken. She whined and just barely registered the loud _clanging_ sounds that were most likely the culprits of her awakening. Her eyes blinked themselves open, squinting when the bright of morning daylight became all too much to take in. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, she registered the open curtain of the large window of their bedroom. _Their bedroom…_ Laura shifted away from the wall, and turned over on her side to see the lumpy body of Betty, still sleeping gladly under the heaps of soft-stitched sheets. Laura giggled at the figure before she finally noticed two other children in the room with her.

She first took note of the back of a very curly mess of bright red hair, currently fluttering about, opening all of the curtains and preparing the washroom. The little girl looked slightly older than Laura herself, and had a striking resemblance to the housemother, Mrs. Perry. The other was a stubby looking child of the same age as the curly redhead, whose own orange mane hung just above her shoulders, and was currently having an immense amount of fun banging two large pans together. It was an attempt at a wake up call, Laura realized.

Laura yawned, decided that it was about time that she met these two odd gingers, and sat up in her bed with her small arms outstretched over her head. She began removing her rag curlers as she spoke. “Hello, my name is-”

“Laura Hollis, g’morning.” The shorter of the two spoke up, finally ceasing her pan clashing and grinned down at Laura. “Up and at ‘em, new kid. You've got classes that start today.” she reached her arm out and waited patiently for Laura to shake it.

Laura started at it curiously before returning the gesture. “How do you know my name?”

The straight-haired ginger laughed. “Lola’s mummy lets us get everyone up in the morning. We know everyone here. Now, I’m your friend.” She said, matter-of-factly, and gave a smile so genuine and kind that Laura felt a warm rush in her system.

Laura smiled in return, and looked past the girl in front of her to the graceful, lean-bodied girl that was currently in the process of ironing Laura’s school uniform. “Is that Lola?”

The ginger in front of her nodded. “You got it. Lola Perry, otherwise known as my best friend in the whole entire world.”

Although Laura felt a swell of happiness at the reveal of two very close friends, she couldn’t help but be tinged with a hint of jealousy. These two had probably been friends since they were very small, and had stayed that way since. Nonetheless, she smiled over at the curly redhead, who’s face, Laura noticed, was tinged a slight pink at the comment. As if it were just a fact of the world. Laura’s lidded gaze turned back to the girl in front of her bed. “And your name?”

The girl laughed at the revelation. “Oh, yeah. My name is _Susan_.”

Laura couldn’t understand for the life of her as to why it sounded somewhat pained when Susan gave her name. Laura decided that it might have been a question for a later time. Nonetheless, she returned the smile and managed to stumble out of bed, having finished removing her curling rags. Laura looked to Susan’s short, straight hair. “Did you forget your curlers, Susan?”

            Susan chucked again, raising a brow. “My hair wouldn't curl if my life depended on it. If it did, there would be more than enough assumptions that Lola and I were siblings.”

            Laura felt a bit sheepish for asking. “Are you two related in any way?”

Lola came up from behind where Susan was standing to lay Laura’s newly-pressed uniform across the bed; a dark, olive green knee-length skirt, black tights, and a long-sleeved button up sweater. “They didn’t have one that fit your exact measurements so the sleeves might be a bit long...and here!” Lola presented a light green hair bow to complete the uniform. “Keep it at the back of the head or on the left side only. The right is considered to be a violation of dress code, which is strictly enforced here.”

Laura nodded gratefully, for both the information and the welcoming kindness presented to her from her new friends. She basked in the realization that it had not even been a day’s time, and she’d managed to make three acquaintances without frightening them into dislike. It had been quite some time.

Lola politely answered Laura’s previous question with a quirk of her lip and dusting of her dress. “No, we’re not related in any way. I suppose it’s just lucky to find a best friend with a hair color pigmentation that’s as strange as your own.”

Susan’s own skin turned a similar shade to her hair.

Laura giggled lightly, shooting up to gather her newly-pressed uniform and leaving all traces of sleepiness on her matted bed, which she noticed that Lola took to making right away. Laura felt a bit ashamed at having not made her bed herself. “Lola, you don’t have to-”

“Don’t bother with that, L. She absolutely thrives on cleanliness!” Susan smirked jokingly, and watched as her friend tended to the bed with a heightened fury.

Laura stared down at her socks. _Had she just been given a nickname? By her friend?_ She’d just barely managed to keep calm about the excitement bubbling up in her chest, but turned on her heel and hurried into the washroom to change.

 

She’d returned a few minutes later with a renewed nervousness. _Did her uniform fit alright? Did she look silly in a skirt? The onyx-colored tights were beginning to ride upwards uncomfortably..._

Lola hurried over with her school bow, and began neatly fixing it onto the left side of her head, pinning back a small lock of hair with it.

Lola’s hands clasped together in front of her chest. “You look absolutely lovely, Laura. You’re very beautiful, you know!”

Laura started down at her polished black indoor _Mary Jane_ shoes that adorned her feet over her tights. Her hands pulled at the curls that hung on of her honey-brown hair that almost reached down to her waist.

Thankfully, Lola seemed to sense her nervousness and choose to speak again. “Elizabeth really should be awake. It’s nearly time for our breakfast call.”

Laura looked past Lola and Susan to see the small lump heavily still on Betty’s side of the room. She grinned and bounced over, staring at the lump with a quirk in her lip. She giggled softly before bouncing forward. “Betty, WAKE UP!” But instead of feeling the solid body of the girl, her hands sunk down on the lump and smothered into the soft sheets. Laura frowned as she felt the sheets settle around her arms.

With a flick of her wrist the unveiled sheets revealed a stack of unwashed pillows, shaped to resemble the body of a rather tall young girl.

Laura turned to Susan and Lola. “Betty isn’t here.” The statement was calm and precise, yet filled with uneasiness.

Lola took the initiative to speak first. “She might just be playing a game, you know. She’s probably downstairs devouring half of the breakfast table!” Lola chuckled nervously.

Susan nodded. “It’s likely. It’s just like Elizabeth to go playing around like that, especially towards the more..naive students.” she threw a good-natured elbow at Laura’s way.

The honey-brunette stood for a moment, staring back at the lumps of soft pillows on the bed, before nodding to herself. “So you’ve known Betty for a while?” Laura asked as the exited her boarding room and walked across the hallway.

Most of the doors on either side were open, revealing either perfectly kept rooms or complete disasters that only boys would be expected of making. Laura knew that it was impolite to look into others rooms, but she could help but giggle as a very tall red headed girl was bouncing on one foot while her hands attempted to pull up her stockings over her legs. She must have been a teenager by her looks, just getting to the stage of dealing with longer limbs. Laura supposed very briefly that she would not need to deal with the extent of that phase, as she imagined she would remain quite small even in adulthood. Unless of course, some miraculous growth spurt were to take place. But she deemed that very unlikely.

Susan answered her inquiry as the three trotted downstairs. “Indeed. Betty’s been attending here since she was seven years old. Lola and I have been here for longer, of course.”

“How many years young are you, Laura?” Lola asked as they entered what appeared to be the tea room that Laura had been exploring the day before.

The room was still as clean and proper as it was before, but now it was occupied with at least 20 young girls, all wearing similar uniforms with some variation. A sparkling veil seemed to settle over the children, their actions free of all evil purpose. It was, in a way, rather soothing. Laura spotted Lottie sitting cross-legged on the soft carpet, rolling a small wooden hobby horse. She also saw Mrs. Perry, entertaining a small group of children as she read to them quietly.

Laura answered as she sat down on the ground with her two friends, only just acknowledging that she had not seen Betty anywhere in the mix of young girls. “I’m eleven and three quarters.” she announced, and greatly resisted the urge to raise her fingers in accordance with her age, only just reminding herself that she could not do that anymore. “And yourselves?”

“Twelve and a half.” Lola smiled happily, before Susan chimed in with a proud “Twelve and three quarters. Which means that I can boss this one around whenever I want.” Susan smirked at Lola, who was still smiling sweetly.

“Susan?” Lola answered, in the softest, most silky voice that Laura had ever heard her produce. Laura noticed Susan’s demeanor changed immediately.

“Would you please go and fetch some sweet tea for Laura and I? One lump.” Lola’s eyelashes batted and Susan’s eyes widened, her head nodding mechanically before bolting up and rushing to the dining hall.

Laura never thought that she’d laughed so hard in her entire life.

 

A few minutes later all three were happily enjoying their hot drinks (Laura became quite ecstatic over the open sugar bowl policy) and the children had managed to calm themselves before their first of their daily meals. The table was almost ready, as Laura could smell the sweet milky scent of a breakfast wheat meal, along with some sort of citrus fruits and the homey scent of freshly baked bread.

Laura’s mouth was nearly watering...she rather enjoyed food. Lots of food, to be specific.

The schoolchildren seemed to catch on soon after, and began to grow skittish as their tummies growled impatiently.

Lola huffed, crossing her arms. “Honestly...can’t they _wait_ for a minute or two?” her pretty fingers tapped against the side of her own arm.

Susan was pouting as if she’d been scolded.

Laura laughed freely. It seemed as though it would be a swell morning.

Then, a small shadow caught in the corner of her eye. She blinked, her head turning and hair swaying.

A small figure looming in the far archway caught Laura’s attention, before the shadow disappeared back into the dark hallway, but not before Laura caught the shine of darkened raven curls and the glaring contrast of the schoolgirl’s pale green hair bows. The small honey brunette took notice of the archway, remembering that it was the same hall that lead to the mysteriously dark attic staircase. She excused herself from Susan and Lola and skipped over across to the other side of the room, taking care as to not disturb any of the other girls in the process.

As she neared the archway, the sounds of chatter and laughter seemed to fade away, along with the pleasant scents of early morning breakfast, replaced with a cold patch of air that hung in the dimly-lit hallway. There, sitting neatly on the first rise of the staircase, sat a beautiful little raven-haired girl who was no bigger than Laura´s own size, concentrating on the pages of a rather large book that she rested on her knees. Her uniform was quite similar to Laura’s own, save for the small black school blazer that the girl wore over her button up blouse. Laura noticed these things only briefly, before the girl’s gaze locked into Laura’s own. Those dark chocolate eyes bore into Laura’s own soft ones with aching familiarity, and it make Laura want to run away. She wouldn’t---no--- _couldn’t_ move, even as the girl stood swiftly, with all the grace of an angel. Laura had estimated correctly; the porcelain-skinned girl was very small, and her curiously blank expression stitched with her large, dark eyes and long lashes completed her doll-like exterior.

The trance was suddenly broken as her dark eyes turned to slits as she glared daggers at Laura.

The honey-brunet opened her small mouth at an attempt of words----nothing but a small squeak.

Then suddenly, she disregarded Laura with a raised dark brow before staring back down at her book again, seeming quite bored with the encounter. She turned and took her time in strolling back up the staircase.

Laura blinked herself out of shock. A larger question loomed in her mind. The students were not allowed up those stairs---Laura had been told this personally by her father. And although Laura had never been very keen on rules, this engaged her interests unwillingly. So, she mustered up the most mature, adultish approach she could attempt. She took in a deep breath. “ _HEY!_ Kids aren’t allowed up there, dummy!”

The dark brunette froze on the fourth step, her small black shoes tapped to a stop. Then, she continued up as if nothing had even phased her, not even bothering to look back down at the small flustered honey-brunette.

Laura’s mouth fell open.

Then, she pouted furiously, her cheeks tinting and her brows furrowed in. Her hands curled into small fists that shook at her sides. She tried again. “ _Hey!_ Did you even _hear me_? We’re not allowed up there!”

This time, the girl on the staircase did turn around slowly, her book closing with her movements. The girl gave a quick glare down at Laura, seeming extremely bored with her presence. “Idiot child; stop yelling. It’s annoying.”

Her voice, though quite high, was like music to the ears even despite her words. Laura tried to put this to the back of her mind.

The honey-brunette’s eyes widened as she watched the girl turn again, her skirt flowing, and proceeded to ascend once again, without another chosen word.

Laura was at a loss as she watched the little girl’s perfect, dark curls bounce with every step, and the beautiful green satin bow at the back of her head. Laura’s cheeks puffed with barely controlled confusion and anger.

“Your bow isn’t as perfectly placed as you think it is, you--- you _bad person,_ you!”

 

* * *

 

 

The dining hall was rather large, as it housed two 18th century veneer mahogany dining tables that rested parallel to each other, each crafted to seat 16 people, which when combined was more than the school even housed. Laura found this to be very curious. All of the students had sat accordingly at the first of the two dining tables, rolling their sleeves up to their elbows and pushing their hair behind their ears. Laura noticed with a small smile that Lola had some trouble with accomplishing the former. She also noticed that the entire table was full, save for one spot right beside Susan. She smiled and walked over, taking care so as to not to wrinkle her skirt as she sat up with a small bounce, her legs dangling a few inches from the ground. She noticed that Susan was staring at her curiously.

¨Um, Laura? As much as I love for you to sit there, that's actually Lizzie’s seat.¨

Lola nodded in agreement. ¨We all have assigned seating. It’s no big deal, just ask my mother where they would like you to be seated.¨

Laura nodded, halfway sliding off of the upholstered chair when she heard Mrs. Perry’s lovely voice. “That's alright Laura dear, you can stay there for now.”

Laura frowned, but readjusted her seating. “Mrs. Perry, if it is alright for me to sit here, then where has Elizabeth gone?”

Mrs. Perry bright blue eyes went wide, and she cleared her throat before she opened her mouth to speak, when the double doors of the kitchen were swung open, and out came a frightened-looking young girl who seemed only a bit older than Laura herself. Her skin was dark and her black curls were tucked under a white traditional maid’s cap, and her round spectacles were almost as big as her own face. She was holding what appeared to be a rather large porridge bowl in one arm, and a silver ladle in the other. An older woman rushed out after her, balancing various trays on both strong arms. She directed the younger girl to begin serving portions of the soupy breakfast food, and the small girl did so accordingly. She went around the tables, starting at one where the Dean, Mrs. Perry, and the pretty mean girl were sitting. She served them, then moved on.

Laura watched the shy girl approach them, and determined that she was a servant. But did she reside at the school? Perhaps she only worked here. Was she not too young for labor? Perhaps she was older than she appeared.

The dark-skinned girl gave Laura her spoonful of porridge then hurried to the tall redhead to her right.

Laura smiled at the girl politely. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, the entire hall had gone silent. Laura watched as the girl with glasses quickly gave the redhead her portion and moved on. The small honey-glanced around. Her eyes caught Mrs. Perry’s, who was hurrying over to where she was sitting.

“Laura, we do not speak to the servants, alright dear?”

Laura’s eyes lowered to the ground. Why, she wondered, was no conversation allowed with them? Surely a simple thanks would not offend them. Although it was likely that they spoke in a different tongue. Laura kept her head down until everyone had resumed their noise making.

Once they were served, polite conversation began as usual. Well, as polite as possible when including children.

“I heard that they crawled out of the new gutters….”

“Yeah, that’s why their skin is like that---probably filthy all the time!”

Laura couldn’t register what was being said at her table. She couldn’t fathom how words could be so cruel, yet tone could seem so innocent. A few of the girls at the far end of the table were speaking of the two servants who had given them their meal. It seemed as though that they were saying was unimpeachable, but Laura knew, deep in her heart that there had to be some underlying evilness. Laura couldn’t take listening in anymore, so she turned to join Perry and Susan’s conversation.

A while later and she became bored with that as well. She leaned her jaw on her small hand, propped up by her elbow. She blew at a strand of bright blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eye. She wondered why the students had to wait to be excused. Why couldn’t they politely excuse themselves?

It was all very frustrating.

But, less frustrating that one other thing. Laura attempted to turn discreetly behind her, and found the raven-haired girl’s eyes boring into her own. She was almost _glaring_ with hatred, and Laura deeply wondered why. She’d also noticed that the girl was the only child at the administrator’s table, as she was sitting just to the right of the Dean. Laura whipped around quickly, clutching at the front fabric of her skirt and kept her wide eyes staring forward.

_Why did the girl dislike her so?_

* * *

 

The end of breakfast brought a tumbling wave of new concepts and rules. There was one professor for two classes that shared similar concepts. All students were required to attend four academically challenging courses, one language, and one fine art. There would be an activity break for everyone under the age of thirteen, and reading breaks for those over the cap. Lunch would be served at noon. Textbooks would be provided, and every student was required to manage their own sets of writing instruments and ink pots. There were only three available classrooms, and students alternated between both classrooms and professors.

Laura’s head was reeling with all of this information. Though, she managed to sheepishly follow behind Susan and Lola’s every move while restraining herself from asking too many questions. Meanwhile, she silently clung to the hope that Betty would be sitting quietly in one of the desks once all of the children were seated.

She was not.

This was the first thing that Laura noticed, after she was seated in one of the last rows of the small classroom. The classroom was nearest to the kitchen, which was likely the explanation for the wafting scent of sweet bread that floated around the brightly lit room. Her professor was quite old; his belly stuck out and covered his belted trousers. He had glared curiously down at Laura when she’d approached him.

“Parlez-vous français, enfant?”

Laura’s eyes had gone wide and she shook her head as a natural response.

He had nodded and spoke gruffly. “Ah, I see. Please to be sitting, now.”

Laura had to refrain from asking any further questions. She’d hoped to find a seat closer to her two new friends, but it wasn’t so.

The second very important thing that Laura noticed but did not care about at all, no sir, was the fact that that there was no sight of the little mean girl anywhere in the classroom. She cocked her head in thought. Every student was to attend the same classes. Another quick glance around the room told Laura that every child (save for the dark haired girl and Betty) was here. Laura found this very curious, and definitely paid all of her attention to what her Professor was lecturing and definitely did not wonder how the mean little girl placed her bow so perfectly every day.

That was until, she was called on.

“Mademoiselle ‘ollis?”

Laura’s head snapped up from where she was staring at her freshly filled ink pot, twirling her pen in the dark liquid. She answered in a small voice, and stood at the side of her desk accordingly. “Y-yes sir?”

He raised his single spectacle at her, leaning forward from where he was standing at the front. “I dare say that you veren’t paying the attention. Care to be telling ze class as to why the attention vasen’t paid?”

Laura’s small mouth opened and a tiny squeak was her response. Her palms grew sweaty as she clasped her hands more tightly together behind her back.

A loud church bell rung thrice, slowly and strongly. It was so loud in fact, that half of the students hurried to cover their ears with their small hands, and the older children took to rubbing their temples in irritation. Laura, having never heard the sound, had ducked under her desk in surprise, and was now slowly getting back to her feet. The ringing had stopped.

All of the students had gathered their things and were now exiting the class. Laura glanced up; Professeur Abelard was smiling at her while shaking his chubby finger. “Very lucky, Madmoiselle. Very lucky, indeed.”

Laura’s face grew hot and she stared at the ground as she followed the two redheads out of the wooden door.

* * *

 

“Very lucky! Very lucky indeed, Mizz ‘ollis!” Susan mocked, snickering as Laura pouted. Interestingly enough, their next class was just across from their last one, and students were already beginning to settle in. Laura had opted for heading upstairs to the washroom to douse her reddened face. Lola handed her a fluffy black towel to pat her cheeks down, before striking Susan in the arm. “Oh hush; that’s not nice. I’d bet Professeur Abelard wouldn’t have a second thought about laughing at _your_ french if it didn’t get him in trouble.”

Susan laughed again. “My french is much better than his. He’s actually from Poland, you know. Acts french to please Miss Morgan.”

Laura heard Lola quickly stifle a giggle with a harsh cough.

“Even if it’s true, we still have to be respectful to him as a teacher.” Lola finalized, and quickly ushered them all back towards the staircases.

Laura rubbed her eyes with her curled fist. It wasn’t even the first hour in and she already felt very tired. The next class, and still no sign of Betty. The small bundle of uneasiness that had been residing in Laura’s stomach grew tenfold when she’d heard a few of the students speaking softly when she’d entered the dimly lit room.

“That’s the girl who was with Betty, right?”

“Such a shame, don’t you think? It really should have been her. Not Betty.”

“Poor Betty.”

Laura averted her eyes from their stares and quickly caught up to Susan and Lola, who were already settling in at their seats. Maybe they’d enlighten her on the gossip.

She hopped onto Lola’s desktop and sat with a huff. ¨This is all very strange. I´d just become friends with Betty, and now she’s gone to nowhere! I say, I don't like this uneasiness. I don't. And now I've developed a record with Professeur Abelard, I’m bound to struggle with my French now, my papa has only just gone and I miss him terribly, I've been scolded more times than days i've attended, and I can't seem to understand that rude girl with her perfect bow and dolly face-¨

Suddenly, Susanś hands were clasping her shoulders and was staring at her worriedly. ¨L, you’re going purple!

Laura took in a deep breath which she released as a sigh. She often tended to spill her top layer thoughts like an open book. She apologized immediately. ¨Oh, forgive me. I’m just very much on edge at the moment.” She felt Lola stroking her hair and she relaxed at the touch.

Susan jumped in front of where she was sitting. ¨L, we’re here to help with whatever madness comes your way. After all, we’re friends.¨

The honey-brunet smiled gratefully, before hopping of of the small student desk. She dusted her skirt. ¨First thing is first I suppose. To find out where Betty’s gone off too...¨ Laura noticed Susan and Lola exchange a look of uncertainty. She raised a brow at them both. ¨Something you'd like to inform me about?¨

Lola opened her heart-shaped mouth but closed it ashamedly.

Susan then took the initiative. ¨Well…It’s not like we know much about it, Laura; there isn't much that anyone can do anymore, but....¨

Laura waited with her breath held.

Susan sighed, seeming quite defeated. ¨Betty is not returning. And it is likely that she never will. There are things about this school...that not even madam Perry understands, or wouldn't dare tell us.¨

¨It’s best to just leave it be. Betty's probably alright; there isn't anything we can do anyways.¨

Laura’s mind was reeling. _Betty was not going to return? Ever? Secretes that no one understands...if that were true, then there wouldn't be a secret in the first place._ Her tiny fists clenched. _Nothing we can do?_

* * *

 

Her second class went along relatively smoothly. Laura found herself giggling along as Susan’s eyes widened with terrifying amounts of joy at all of experiments they would conduct throughout the year, beginning with a simple putty-making procedure, but it was enough to get Susan’s gears turning. Laura even noticed that Lola was having a bit of trouble with her own solution.

And Laura had very much enjoyed making castles out of the finished product.

Their break time was spent in Laura’s room, where the two redheaded children had made themselves very much at home after Laura had closed the door shut.

The honey-brunette took to pacing about the room as she spoke. “Alrighty. I need some kind of explanation before I start to go all wonky.” She turned to Susan first, who was sitting cross-legged on top of Laura’s bed. “First, how did you know that Betty would not be returning?”

Susan’s gaze turned sorrowful. “Laura…”

“We’ve been here almost since we were toddlers, Laura. A lot of things have happened since then, but this whole... _thing_ is quite recent.”

“What _thing?_ ” Laura questioned, ceasing her pacing.

Lola’s fingers knotted and twisted. “Well...I don’t really know. It’s only been happening for the past two years or so, but since then…”

“Over five girls have just...disappeared. They leave in the middle of the night usually, and then they never come back.” Susan sighed.

Laura couldn’t bring herself to wrap her head around it all, so she moved on. “Without any of their things? Because Betty had all of these pretty necklaces and bracelets and they’re still here.”

The three children turned to the brightly colored assortment of jewelry that was gathered atop the dresser at the back wall of the room. They reflected the light that managed through the grimy window, and it was almost blinding.

“Usually,” said Susan, “and none of the professors will ever talk about them again. If they’re spoken of, it's considered ‘inflammatory’” she used air quotes “whatever that means.”

Laura rubbed her tired eyes. Last night wasn’t very helpful towards their situation, and now she felt as though there was even less to go off of. She brushed it off, though, and placed her fists on her hips. “Well,” she took a deep breath. “that’s fine. If none of the grown-ups are gonna help me, then I’ll find Betty myself.” she noticed Susan and Lola exchange another look of uncertainty. She turned her gaze towards the empty bed, the arranged pillows still sitting lifelessly in the form of a child. “Or...what happened to her.”

* * *

 

Their next two classes went by rather quickly; Laura found herself rather enjoying the topics, as they fed her love for learning. Her literature class was taught by an older woman named Professor Cochrane, who was an eccentric teacher who knew her stuff and cared dearly for her students.

Their lunch break was next. The students were directed once again to the dining hall, and after having a generous helping of sandwiches and clam chowder; Laura glanced around again. It seemed as though that this time, the students were free to spend their remaining lunch hour however they pleased when they had finished. Laura stacked her dishes accordingly and excused herself from Susan and Lola, who were still chatting over their sandwiches and mumbling something about “hummus”...

            Laura hopped from one carpet to the other as she made her way out the back of the mansion, taking care to readjust the rugs if she’d shifted one over. She giggled as one slid forward with her speed, and felt very proud of herself once she’d caught herself from stumbling. She fixed that one, too. She assumed that students were allowed outside at this hour, as the glass double doors that lead to the rolling hills of their three acres were wide open.

The air was crisp but not unpleasant, but the wind whipped around her honey brown locks and made a mess of them as she looked around. She spit out some of the hair that had caught in her mouth and took in her surroundings. Although the stark black fence of the property was clearly visible around its borders, Laura imagined that the tanned prairie in front of her stretched for miles. It didn’t of course, because at the end of the property, the Gothic fence bordered the expanse of forest that was just on the other side. The gardens surrounding the mansion were still in their planting season, and there weren’t any trees besides one that was placed atop an oddly shaped hill to Laura’s right. She also noticed the little dot of black and porcelain that was sitting gracefully under the rather dead-looking oak tree, looking down at something in her lap.

Laura tried not to be upset when she determinedly approached the girl under the tree, but the memory of her rudeness burned a flame in Laura that she couldn't quite control. She found herself running towards the girl, her little legs working in crude sync with pumping arms as she hurried over. She was only a little ways away, but the girl sitting on the hill had not yet seen Laura. That was until, Laura stumbled over her own strides and she fell forward, landing on her hands and knees. She grunted and sat up, looking down at her dirty hands. She glanced up; the dark brunette was staring at her with a raised brow. Then suddenly, the girl let out a single scoff, and continued reading from her hardback novel.

Laura’s face was indistinguishable from a tomato.

She stood, trying not to stumble again on her way up, and she dusted off the the knees of her tights with a ‘hmpf!’. She kept her chin high as she strode over to the girl under the dead tree, intending to give the girl a piece of her mind. Her stubborn approach wavered slightly as she found herself staring at the other girl, who was staring right back at her with a scowl. Laura attempted to match her strong expression.

The other girl snorted. “Idiot child. You look like a rabbit who just got it’s carrots taken away.”

Laura growled. “Listen, you! I’ve just about had enough of your mean talk all the time, and-”

“You’re implying that we’ve spoken more than once.” said the dark brunette, turning a page in her book lazily.

Laura’s fists balled and she took a deep breath. “Why do you hate me? You don’t even know my name!”

“Laura.”

“What?”

“That is your name, it it not?”

Laura scowled at the ground. Curses! It seemed that the girl seemed to always have the upper hand. She brushed it off. “Well, I’d like you to apologize.”

“I refuse.”

Laura’s cheeks puffed. “Well, you’re rude! So you have to!”

“You used a possessive pronoun, implying that you have attributed that word to me. I cannot apologize for who I am.”

Laura’s lip curled in agitation, her fists almost shaking at her sides. “Who are you?!”

The girl stared at her evenly, before giving a small huff. “Carmilla.”

Laura stopped fuming. “What?”

The girl gave a frustrated growl. “Idiot child...my name is Carmilla.” And with that, she stood promptly, grabbing the apple which Laura had assumed had been part of her lunch, and strode past Laura back towards the mansion.

The honey-brunette stared at the perfect bow at the back of the girl’s head, her mouth agape. Her own face was red and she felt thoroughly agitated. She formed her small hands around her mouth to amplify her words. “You’re a child _too_ , y’know! You-you... _bad person_!”

 

* * *

 

Laura returned to Susan and Lola with a very stern expression. She paced in front of them as they were solving their mathematics assignment, (one that Laura should have been completing as well).

“That girl...is without a doubt, the lowest, most foul creature to ever walk the planet!”

Susan was leaning over towards Perry’s desk as she spoke. “I assume that you’re referring to Mircalla.”

Laura ceased her pacing and placed her hands flat on Perry’s desk. Her brow furrowed. “No, I mean Carmilla. The small girl with dark curly hair and pale skin who’s always frowning...”

Susan raised a light brow. “Yes, that’s Mircalla. There’s no one here named Carmilla.”

Laura’s cheeks puffed in anger. “That uncivil little...she lied to me!”

“Wait, she _spoke_ to you?” Susan’s eyes bugged out of her head.

Laura froze, then she spoke slowly, feeling very much on edge at Susan’s tone. “Yes...she did.” Something seemed very strange about all of this. “Is there something wrong with that? Besides the fact that she was extremely rude and all I was trying to do was ask to her apologize so I don’t really understand why she feels the need to be so mean, it seems like she doesn’t really have many friends so maybe she might be lo-”

“Whoa there, motormouth!” Susan chuckled. “You’re right though; she doesn’t have friends.”

“Mircalla doesn’t talk to anyone.” Lola confirmed.

“Well,” Laura huffed, “she probably only spoke to me to make me angry. Which she did!”

“I always assumed she was a little mean....” Lola admitted, twiddling her thumbs. “Once, I had to help Melody with getting the milk into the icebox, and Mel accidentally dropped one and the glass cut my leg.” she rubbed the spot on her ankle through her stockings. “And Mircalla happened to be passing by, God knows why she was in the kitchen in the first place, but she’d just...stared at me.”

Susan quickly took note of Lola’s sadness and rubbed her shoulder. Lola leaned into the touch.

“Mel helped after, of course. But if it were me, I would have cared if anyone else was injured. I don’t know...it made me uneasy of her.

 

* * *

 

Laura’s nightgown, like everything else in her wardrobe, fit her entirely too big. When her father gave the school her measurements, he’d predicted that she’d have a sudden growth spurt and that all of her clothes would be useless to her in a year or so. Laura pouted at the dragging fabric that pooled around her feet, and she folded back the soft cotton sleeves on her arms. She jumped up to her bed with a small hop, finally allowing herself to glance over to Betty’s side of the maroon room. Laura stared at the empty bed with a furrowed brow. Betty’s disappearance had awoken something in Laura. A thirst for realism, one that likely would lead to no good, but must be explored nonetheless.

A loud slam brought a haze of uneasiness over the room and she jumped up, trying not to stumble over her own nightgown as she approached the grimy window to the right of the room. Her hands pressed against the cold glass and her panicked breath fogged up the glass. She rubbed away the haze with a frustrated growl. The night was an inky black, but the single streetlamp allowed Laura to see the single-steed buggy in front of the mansion. She frowned as the heavy doors of the main entrance were swung open, and there was Ms. Morgan, with two other men clothed in brown and black. One of the men was being followed by a young girl, who appeared to be wearing their school’s uniform. Laura did not recognize her, but she watched helplessly as the girl was directed into the buggy, and out of Laura’s sight. She’d also noticed the assortment of luggage tied to the back end of the buggy, and then the carriage was disappearing down the road, with Ms. Morgan waving them off casually.

Laura stared down at the Dean, watching as the woman dusted her hands on a black cloth, which she promptly disposed of in a nearby bin, before straightening her posture and strutting back into the mansion. Her long black gown covered the length of her long legs, making her seem like she was gliding as she entered.

Laura sat back on her ankles on the window seat. She stared down at her closed fists, and couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. Her gaze found Betty’s bed again, and she stared at it for a long while, unblinking.

She made a very important decision as she made her way back to her own bed, taking her time in shifting over the fluffy comforter and silky sheets. She settled in with a small prayer.

In retrospect, it would have been a very frightening decision, even to an adult, but little Laura decided that she might be the only one who could help. Her eyes slipped closed, sending a silent goodnight message to her papa, wishing him his safety and her love.

She would find out what had happened to Elizabeth Ann Spielsdorf. Even if it killed her.

                                                                                                               ~~On This Sloping Hill~~

_"The children play_

_At hide and seek_

_About the Monument_

_To Speke_

_And why should the dead_

_Explorer mind,_

_With nothing to seek_

_And nothing to find?"_

_-Wolfe_

* * *

 

[The Miss Morgan School For Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0bHlRmiNFk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The plot begins. Duehn Duehn Dueeeehhhnnnn. Seriously though, I’d suggest that easily triggered individuals do not proceed. Again, this fic will contain HIGHLY TRIGGERING MATERIAL (death, suicide, child abuse, descriptive depictions of injury, animal abuse, mental disorders in adolescents, abandonment)  
> -LaF has not yet discovered their preferred pronouns, so they will be “she/her” for these first few chapters until the issue is addressed.  
> -Keep in mind that I am taking artistic license with the traditional story of ALP. It will have similar bases and concepts, but most of the storyline will be much darker, and much more different than the original.  
> -For anyone that was asking about main character deaths, I answer this: characters will die. But Hollstein will be alright in the end if my little dolls manage to get themselves out of the webs on time. 
> 
> And once again, I can’t tell if many will be very interested in this story, although for the most part it has already been finished. So I do request 5 more kudos in order to proceed. Thank you, dearies. 
> 
> -BabyDoll


	3. I Can Feel Your Angel Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls down the hill* I thought I'd uploaded this weeks ago. jfc.

 

[Angel Wings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vnlnh1Ycs4)

Laura had always believed that fate did not leave friendships to chance. True friendships, even if they resulted in a falling out, had a purpose in shaping both parties. Laura had developed a few friendships even in her first few years of life. But after the accident, she’d lost them all. Regardless, she’d never considered one of them her best friend. She’d been saving that position for a very special person. Even if she waited for a lifetime, Laura believed that her bestfriend, her soulmate, would find her---that they would find each other.

A borderline shrill voice came bursting through Laura’s bedroom. The honey-brunette sighed into her pillow, only barely managing to remember the day, and confirmed her suspicion that there weren’t any school classes scheduled. Laura felt a sudden dip at the foot of her bed and sat up, only to find Susan face-down in the sheets, grumbling into nothingness.

Laura giggled and patted the other girl’s shoulder.

At this, Susan lifted her head ever so slightly. “Lola’s crazy…”

Laura spotted a thin-lipped smile on Susan but didn’t comment; instead, she turned to Lola who had begun speaking again.

“I heard that, Susan! Laura dear, we have to attend mass today as well as every Sunday,” said Lola.

Laura couldn’t manage to keep her thoughts reeled in. “Aren’t you of a different belief? I mean, not to assume anything, but your mother had the star of David pinned on her collar so I’d figured that you’d be the same- and I’m very sorry about asking but-”

Lola giggled. “Yes, I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the beautiful aura of a church house.”

Laura spotted Lola quickly pulling open the curtains and rushing to gather Laura’s clothes. Laura smiled at this. She suspected that Lola would, someday, be a very good mother.

* * *

 

Laura found herself shifting in her seat, picking at the food on her white plate anxiously. New places tended to raise some high amounts of unwanted curiosity in Laura. She attempted to stop bouncing in her seat, but once Ms. Perry gave the call for everyone to rush and slip on their coats and winter shoes, Laura couldn’t help but give a small squeal of delight.

Susan laughed. “First time going to a church?” She said, as the three friends, all dressed in their long olive pea coats that framed their shoulders, slipped on their outside trainers.

Laura made a small noise of thought before adjusting the green beret atop her head. “I suppose a few times. But most were for funeral viewings…”

Susan rose a curious brow at this but didn’t comment. She knew that Laura’s father was a Captain of the British Army, so she’d assumed that kind of lifestyle had surrounded Laura.

Once out the front door, they were greeted with the musk of  late autumn. Laura snuggled further into herself as they stepped outside, feeling small sprinkles of rain begin to fall from the gloomy sky. Beside her, Lola gave out a frustrated growl.

The beret just barely managed to cover the top of Lola’s fiery mess of orange curls, which she patted down angrily.

“Lola’s hair gets all poofy with the humidity,” Susan explained. “It’s really cute.”

Lola turned red, patting down her hair more furiously. “It’s not!”

“It is!” Susan laughed, tucking her own ears under the beret.

   Ms. Perry, who had already been outside at the time, called the students in after she’s observed them attempting to splash each other with mini puddles on the pavement. “Pair up, girls! I want two lines right in front of me. Pair up!”

Lola and Susan immediately stepped together and gave a rather sheepish look at Laura, who smiled in return.

“That’s alright, I think it was about time I spoke to more than two people here.” So she looked around as the girls, all of the various ages, began pairing up with each other. Laura spotted the little blonde from yesterday, thumb in her mouth as she clutched onto her beret.

The honey-blonde skipped over. “Hello, Lottie!”

Lottie took the courtesy of pulling her thumb out of her mouth, “Hello Lauwa.” she said politely before sticking it right back in.

Laura eyed the big beret that Lottie had clutched to her chest and pointed at it. “Do you need any help with that?” To which Lottie nodded and stuck out her arm towards Laura, who took the beret and adjusted it accordingly atop Lottie’s head. Laura played with the little girl’s hair a bit, noticing how soft and angel-like it was.

Once Lottie was situated, Laura spoke again. “Would you like to walk together? I make a great buddy!”

Lottie nodded solemnly, reaching out to immediately grip Laura’s small hand with her even tinier one. Laura filed them both into the line as they waited. Suddenly, Lottie was out of her grip, running off to the front of the line to meet with a five-year-old whom Laura knew as Maybell. The honey-brunette huffed, smiling. “Well sheesh, go right ahead.”

“Sorry, I told her that Mabel had some candy to share. I hope you don’t mind?”

Laura jumped, only now just noticing the tall redheaded girl whom she’d seen at breakfast the other day. The girl was smiling down at her, her hand held out in a friendly manner.

Laura took it cautiously. “Oh, that’s alright. She’d ought to make friends her own age.” Laura observed the rather tall teenager as the two lines began to make their way. She’d remembered her name: Danielle Lawrence, who was in charge of making sure the younger children got their share of exercise.

   Her grip was strong against Laura’s, and Laura found herself struggling to make conversation.

“ I'm quite new here, so I really don't know much about this place…”

Danielle nodded. “I know! You’re _Laura_ , aren’t you?”

Laura gave an affirmative smile.

Danille’s return was almost blinding. “I’m Danny. Well, my given name is Danielle, but that seems a bit too posh for my liking.”

“Danny…” Laura repeated, wrinkling her nose. The name was a bit boyish, but charming nonetheless. They were out of the heavy black gates now. Laura found it strange that she hadn’t even taken the time to notice who was leading them; she’d then noticed the looming presence of Miss Morgan. who was walking as gracefully as a swimming swan. If that swan was a dark and scary sort of bird… But what caught Laura’s eye was the small timid presence that walked right beside the Dean; the tiny back side of Mircalla. Her dress was as neat as ever, and she had replaced her usual olive satin bow for a silky black one. Laura cocked her head. Was that allowed? Perhaps it was a special occasion only for the church visit. Mircalla’s stature was but a mere toddler’s size when compared with Miss Morgan’s model-like height. Laura also noticed that while other students were speaking animatedly to their partners, (even Susan and Lola, who were laughing about something Lola’s mother had said) the Dean did not care to even spare a glance at Mircalla. Why then, would Mircalla choose to walk with Miss Morgan?

The small honey brunette couldn’t understand it. She turned to her left to find Danny staring at her questioningly.

“Well?”

Laura felt her face redden. She wasn’t paying attention to what was asked of her.

Danny laughed at Laura’s expression. “That’s alright, you don’t have to tell me right now.”

Laura held in a sigh of relief, internally scolding herself for wondering about things that she had no control over. It was a childish thing to do, really…

Laura turned slightly behind her, where she could see the distant town just west of their school fading with each step. To the east, a white building emerged. An enormous house of worship.

Stained glass windows adorned either side of the church, both in long pairs. Statues of saints and angels aligned themselves on their side.  At one time, it would have been prominent that the temple had been white, but had been layered and peeled so many times that it was now an eggshell brown with occasional strips of white paint. It was hastily uninviting, but at the same time, held an aura of easiness.

   The Priest was calm, yet his voice boomed from his rather large stature.

It reminded Laura nothing of her father, though. This man was wrinkled and had a permanent scowl hastily sewn onto his features, as if he’d spent most of his life in great judgment. Laura tried not to catch his eye. Beside her, she found Perry listening avidly, while Susan had apparently fallen asleep on her shoulder and was snoring quietly. Laura rubbed at her eyes tiredly before leaning back to stare at the beautifully painted ceiling panels that were high above any one person’s reach. The colors made her slightly dizzy.

Mass went by slowly. Laura tried not to fidget too much, but even as some of the younger children tried to entertain themselves. Until finally, the sermon was completed, and the churchgoers were dismissed.

Even the air felt lighter now that the children had been given free reign. Brunch had been laid out in a pot-luck arrangement, where they were given their choice in both healthy and sweetened foods;  most of the children helped themselves to the latter.

The younger ones skipped about while the elders chatted animatedly. Laura pulled at the grass where herself and a few other children had placed themselves.

“What position in the army is your father, Laura?” Perry asked, and Laura’s answering smile couldn't've been brighter. She’d just begun to settle into the loss of absence of her father, and while her heart ached for him, she always felt as though she needed to learn a little independence. One is never too young to grow up…right?

Laura’s babbling about her father and his stories lead to Susan and Lola giving their own chatter about their family lives. Lola spoke very highly of her father’s position as a nurse for the war effort, as well as her mother’s job as a housemaid for their boarding school. Susan was a bit quieter about the subject, but spoke of her parents fondly.

While the two were exchanging old memories (something about cookies, maybe) Laura scanned the dull green church lawn that surrounded them. She’d noticed that Miss Morgan and Mrs. Perry had taken to sitting stiffly on silver chairs that were tucked neatly into the serving table. Mrs. Perry was explaining something, her hands flailing sweetly, while the Dean nodded in all the right places, the veil of darkness never leaving her slit eyes. Laura wasn’t too surprised to see Mircalla sitting neatly on the other side of the table, unmoving, eyes trained forward.

Laura’s tongue peeked out from her mouth in thought. Although Mircalla had been quite rude to her, lied to her, and practically dismissed her altogether, Laura found herself unable to stay too upset. After all, everyone deserved a second chance. Or a third.

The honey brunette hopped up, not bothering to check for unsightly grass stains as she dusted her hands. She snuck over towards the table, out of vision range from both the Dean and Mrs. Perry as she ducked quickly under the tablecloth, but not before snagging a delicious-looking honey custard biscuit from a silver tray atop the table. She crawled on her knees, simultaneously trying not to bump her head or drop the treat she intended to deliver. On the far side of the table, she’d reached her target. Ankle-tucked, black-tight covered legs, with polished Mary-Janes that were far more expensive looking than Laura’s own pair.

Laura poked Mircalla’s knee.

She received a sudden kick to the stomach in response.

“Oof!” Laura fell back on her bottom, still managing to keep the pastry off of the ground. Suddenly, a pair of dark chocolate eyes met her own as Mircalla tilted her head under the tablecloth.

Mircalla’s glare couldn’t have been more disgusted. She popped back up in an instant, and Laura followed, albeit a bit more carefully.

Deciding that the sudden blow had been a reflex, Laura didn’t take it to heart and she stood next to the still-seated Mircalla, holding the golden pastry behind her back. “Hello!” The honey blonde chirped, giving a small wave with her free hand.

The dark brunette’s response was nothing more than a bored blink, of even that. Laura questioned whether the gesture was even an acknowledgement in the first place...She tried again. The small biscuit was beginning to crumble behind her back, so she brought it forward as an offering. “I’ve brought you a custard biscuit. Although I don’t know if you’d like it; if you wanted something from the table I suppose you could have just grabbed it yourself, but maybe you’d like to join us! Well, by us, I mean Susan, Lola, and I, they may seem a little strange but they’re both so kind” Laura’s conscience told her that she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop now. She had to talk to this girl. “It’s really very good---here!” Laura stepped forward to further her offering, and ended up dropping a few fluffy crumbs on the dark satin skirt of the girl’s dress.

Laura, not knowing otherwise, giggled nervously. “Oh, I’m very sorry, here---” She reached forward with her tiny, gentle hand to brush the contrasting crumbs off the other girl’s lap, but Mircalla stiffened like a board before contact could be made. Then she stood up like a bullet, and her book slid onto the grass, folding open the pages in odd ways against the murky lawn. The girl’s devastating glare made Laura’s throat go dry. And before little Laura could even utter another apology, (hopefully one she would have been allowed to finish) Mircalla had snatched up her Bible and strode away.

Laura hadn’t even noticed when she’d dropped the biscuit to the ground.

* * *

 

Why had she reacted so? They were simple crumbs; they couldn’t have absolutely ruined her expensive dress, could they have? Laura’s feet were kicking lightly as she pondered on the edge of her soft bed. She had pulled her long honey-brown locks up into a high ponytail, the ends of which were curling this way and that. She’d also taken the liberty of removing her original uniform and changing into a more comfortable set of ladies’ trousers and a pastel green poofing blouse that was a tad too big for her small frame.

Laura heard very loud honking coming from outside of her window. Though the nearest cross street was very far away from the school, she could still make out the Palliser Ambulance that was making its way past. She thought it a bit strange. Until she’d gone outside of her own room and hopped onto the sangria carpet, she’d not registered the grunts of frustration that were coming from another room somewhere near her own. Laura’s brows creased together as she stared into a nearby opened door, where she found a small, bright blonde head of hair flouncing as Lottie tried to grab at something on a high dresser. Laura smiled and skipped over. “Hello, Lottie!”

Lottie turned with sad eyes at Laura. “Hello, Ms Lauwa.”

Laura giggled at the formal name and bent down a few inches to Lottie’s own height. “What’s the matter? Why were you hopping?”

Lottie pointed to the top of the dresser. “Miss Perry put toy uh’ there. Can’ reach.” Lottie’s voice wavered a tad, and it made Laura’s heart clench. The honey blonde nodded determinedly. “I’ll get it!”

Though try as she might, Laura’s own height didn’t distinguish too harshly from Lottie’s own. So she too failed to retrieve the toy. She huffed, but not dejectedly. She turned her back to Lottie, and crouched down. “Hop on, Lottie; I’ll lift ya to it!”

The tiny blonde did so, and just barely managed to grab onto the porcelain object that had been out of Laura’s line of vision.

Lottie scrambled off of Laura once she’d gotten her toy, and hugged it tightly to her with one hand, as the other thumb was now stuck in her mouth.

Laura noticed the beautiful doll right away. Its hair was thick and neatly curled, its skin perfectly blushed with black eyes that seemed as deep as an ocean. What was curious, though, was that it seemed that the porcelain doll had been given tailor-made clothing made to resemble the boarding school’s uniform. Laura found this very curious. “Lottie?”

The tiny blonde was busy rocking the rather large doll in her arms, so she hadn’t answered. Laura continued. “Where did you get that doll?”

Lottie’s bright grey eyes shifted to stare into Laura’s own honey-brown irises. Lottie still hadn't said anything.

“Did you mummy or daddy get it for you?”

Lottie’s head shook. “Don’ have t’em.”

Laura’s brow creased. It wasn’t likely that she’d get the answers she searched for. At least, not from Lottie’s own mouth. Laura made a mental note to ask Mrs. Perry about it sometime later on. So she smiled at Lottie and patted her soft hair. “Alright. Well, us older people have very important things to do. I'll go now.”

“Miss Lauwa.” Lottie called before the honey blonde was out of the doorway.

“Yes, Lottie?”

The four-year-old reluctantly held the porcelain doll away from her body, outstretched towards Laura to prove her point. Lottie spoke again, with great seriousness in her soft voice. “Dolly makes Carmilla sad.”

Laura’s brows shot up. There it was again. She knew that Lottie had been referring to Mircalla, but what use did Mircalla have with lying to Lottie about her name? And how could an expensive, well-dressed doll, make Mircalla waiver in emotion, when Laura couldn’t even get a smile out of the girl? It was all very strange, but Laura hesitantly put it to the back of her mind, dismissing Lottie’s words. “I see. It’s probably best that she’d not see it then, right?”

Lottie nodded hesitantly. “Carmilla mustn't.”

Laura gave a small smile and backed out of the room, leaving Lottie to stare into the eyes of the doll.

* * *

 

Their ballroom, although quite small, was largely beautiful. Its ceilings were golden and the polished redwood floor made Laura extra careful to avoid slipping. The room was brightly lit and held a strange old lavender scent. Susan had told Laura that they had been assigned dance partners since the age of seven, and most of it was just good fun and exercise. But now at a slightly older age, they were required to actually learn a few of the more advanced dance styles. This, Laura was most concerned about. She was only slightly clumsy, but having to coordinate with another person was an entirely new concept. She found it rather exciting as well. As it was, Laura hadn’t been assigned a partner yet.

“Miss Hollis darling, you’ll be filling in for anyone without a partner, as of now. We’ll situate you with a partner once you become more familiar with the group.” Their teacher had said to her.

Laura was thankful for this at least. But at least for the next few weeks, it wouldn't be entirely necessary.

They’d begun with a simple box step. Well, it was supposed  to be simple. Perry had taken to the sequence gracefully, while Susan settled for jumping from square to square, switching between both feet.

Laura was doing her best not to trip over herself. ‘Right back, then left...then back, wait, left back? Left left? Right front- no…’ Laura huffed with a small smile. She was hopeless. Suddenly, small stocky hands had grabbed her own; Susan spun Laura around, giggling, and Lola smiled at the two.

The class went on rather smoothly. Their interpretive dance moves, however...

* * *

 

Laura’s bedroom was cascaded in the bloody red sunlight that poured in through the large window. The small child was at the window seat. Laura found herself staring out of her room window once again, tending to the small tear on one of her uniforms. She’d known that while Lola would have done a very good job with the sewing job, Laura preferred to try it herself. Getting the thin thread through the even tinier eye of the needle had been a bit of a challenge, but Laura found that keeping track of the needle had been the hardest part with such dark carpeting. She pinched the thin strip of metal and poked it through the olive fabric and out to the other side. Just before she’d pricked her other hand.

   “ _Owwie!_ ” She dropped the sharp tool haphazardly and stuck her pointer finger straight into her pouting mouth. The drop of blood that had oozed out tasted like orangey copper. Yeck! She couldn’t imagine having to taste the stuff on purpose, like, some sort of...blood drinking creature she’d read about!

She pushed her hair behind her ear before rubbing at her eyes. It was almost late noon, as the bedroom was cast in a hazy pink glow from  the light of the open window. Her sweet chocolate eyes scanned the distant town just outside of the black fence. If she tried hard enough, she could even make out the church, which was a stark contrast to the grey gothic buildings. But something caught Laura’s eye. A small dot of a figure, letting itself through the front gates, and walking slowly towards the front of the school.

Laura pressed her hands against the window, her breath held so it didn’t fog, and peered down at the small, well-dressed figure. Mircalla! The dark brunette strolling her way towards the mansion had not even bothered to look up from her hardback novel. Laura felt an irritated frown form on her own face. Mostly, she was curious. How was Mircalla allowed to leave the school whenever she saw fit? It clearly wasn't secretive; Mircalla was strutting in like she owned the property! A small part of Laura felt an unfamiliar tug of concern. Laura always saw the best in people, but their city was highly populated, and anyone could have snatched Mircalla away if she was unattended. Even Laura knew that a child wandering on her own in a large city of was not safe in the slightest.

Mircalla disappeared into the front school doors.

* * *

 

Perhaps one of the best parts of attending a high-end boarding school (in Laura’s opinion, of course) were the meals. Assortments of every kind were brought by the dark-skinned workers, including the young lady. And although the young child had attended the school for a few short days, Laura had taken a liking to being served by others. It was a dangerous attraction, Laura knew. Being dependent on others was a tricky business. But even so, dependency was a necessary skill.

       “Okay, children. To the tea room; post haste!” Mrs. Perry said after their meals had been finished and the plates were on their way to be washed. With small grumbles and huffs, they rose in an orderly fashion and shuffled out of the dining hall.

The black mantled fireplace was sufficient in warming the entirety of the tea room. The children were seated in gathered wooden chairs, all placed neatly in a rather large circle formation.

No child was exempt from reading night every Sunday, even as the youngest of individuals tended to become restless and bored with the dry literature. The small novel was passed to those who could read it, and continued around the circle as such. While Mrs. Perry played a gentle tune on a Pedal harp just outside of the circle of children, Miss Morgan observed the children from a high-backed chair that sat away from the fireplace.

   “And so the young lady slept, many thoughts plaguing her, as her father's words echoed in her subconscious. She would have to put her childish things away very soon; it was entirely necessary for a good marriage...”

   Most had fallen asleep in their chairs during the recited paragraphs of the first few readers; some others tried desperately to stay awake with the fear that they would sleep through their required readings. Laura waited patiently for her own turn, swinging her legs, and entertaining herself by sneaking silly faces at Susan, who sat on the opposite side of the circle. Perry’s scolding gaze only stopped her occasionally. The only child who seemed to be listening attentively to whatever was being read, Laura noticed, was Mircalla, who sat as straight as a rod with dark eyes trained forward. Laura noticed this and subconsciously corrected her own posture. Laura had already taken her turn, and despite her speed-reading and occasional stumble, Laura was quite proud of managing to get through her section. She supposed that it would get easier with practice.

It circled around towards the halfway mark with 12 students already having read from the achingly boring novel.

Susan giggled at a few of the outdated terms as she read, and was given a terrifying scowl from the Dean. Susan was more than happy to pass the book on.

SarahJane was next, then Danny. Skipping over Lottie, the book was given to a pretty girl with slanted eyes and long dark hair.

 _‘A European heiress!’_ Laura had imagined hopefully, after she learned the girl’s name: Brittany. A chipper blonde was next, followed by Perry, and finally, the book was given to Mircalla.

Beside her, Laura heard a small huff of annoyance from another student. _"Here we go again…"_

Laura frowned and stared expectantly at Mircalla. Surely the dark brunette would stand with impeccable grace, lift her chin to the novel, and read aloud flawlessly with the voice of a princess to match.

Laura couldn't have been more off.

Instead of Laura’s grand fantasy, Mircalla remained seated, the book laid open helplessly in her lap. Mircalla’s head was down, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder and shaded her face.

She didn't utter a sound.

Laura’s eyes went wide, and the honey brunette noticed that the Dean’s dark eyes were trained on Mircalla with a look of barely disguised disgust.

A few seconds went by---it felt like days.

The mousy-haired 13-year-old to the left of Mircalla gave the mute brunette an apologetic look before gently taking the book into her own lap and continued from where Perry had left off.

“And so Charlotte rose from her chambers, taking care in brushing her long platinum hair many times…”

Laura continued staring at the silent girl.

Her fists were clenched on the tops of her thighs, where the book had just been, and had not yet dared to raise her eyes any further than the carpet line.

The book finished its circle, and the pupils headed to bed.

* * *

 

 

Laura’s bedroom felt emptier empty every night. She grew restless, turning over more times than she could count. Laura decided that a glass of water was in order. And maybe a cookie or two. Yep, defiantly in order. A long, thin candle was her only source of lighting.

The mansion was especially interesting at night. Laura found it curious that she could still hear Mrs. Perry gently pulling at the strings of her harp, only just masking the harsh voices that emanated from the same floor.

The honey brunette’s little hand fisted in the fabric of her nightgown, hesitant. The last time she’d ventured out late at night, she was met with the scalding, hellish eyes of the Dean.

Unfortunately for Laura, she heard that very voice again.

_“Insufferable /child/…no better than  a lobotomized vegetable!”_

Laura winced. The Dean was surely speaking to a student again.

_“Useless...can't even /read/...turning into a clammy rodent!”_

Laura’s eyes widened. Was the Dean speaking to Mircalla?

The heavy brass doors to the Dean’s office were shut, the sounds just managing to seep through. The voice continued, muttering even harsher strings of words that made Laura want to cover her own ears. She couldn't even imagine what Mircalla must have been thinking. Laura suddenly felt a burst of anger. No one deserved to be spoken to in such an awful way. Not even a girl who had been rude to her since they'd met!

But… there wasn't anything she could do.

Was there?

With a determined pout and narrowed eyes, Laura rushed forward without a second thought. Her tiny fist slammed against the solid doors, but it hardly made a sound.

The voices had stopped.

Laura ceased her angry knocking.

Suddenly, she was panicking.

What had she done?! As much as she would have liked to help Mircalla, Laura wasn't sure if dying would be the most helpful thing at the moment…

Laura’s heart was threatening to burst out of her ribs. And then, the doors swung open, nearly hitting Laura as she fell back and landed on her bottom.

In the doorway, with a very angry-looking Mircalla directly behind her, was Miss Morgan, staring down at Laura, the woman’s pitch-black eyes caught on the candle Laura had been holding and flashed a dangerous yellow.

Laura dropped the candle onto the hardwood, where it fell with an empty thud and went out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls around*  
> Apologies for the jump cuts scattered throughout. Each segment is necessary for plot progression.  
> Once again, 5 more Kudos for this fic’s continuation. The next chapter will be up much faster than the last if our goal is completed. 
> 
> Again, this fic will contain HIGHLY TRIGGERING MATERIAL (death, suicide, child abuse, descriptive depictions of injury, animal abuse, mental disorders in adolescents, abandonment). Proceed with caution.  
> Thank you, loves.
> 
> -BabyDoll


	4. A Letter To Papa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura's birthday is fast approaching.

_ [Letter To Papa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXqVJuM8h1Q) _

 

 

_ Addressed to Captain  John Isaac Hollis  _

_          Great Britian _

_          November 23, 1914 _

_          Arras, France _

 

_ Papa!  _

_ I have some very important news to share. Last week, we visited a museum! It was very grand! I was nearly dizzy with all of the art we saw, papa, but we certainly weren’t allowed to touch any of the exhibits. After all, Mrs. Perry clearly said:  “ fine art need be preserved.” I would agree, but after all, the best part of painting is putting new paint on top of the old! Lola explained that some of her relatives were once artists, and their work might have been put up for display. The three of us became lost a few times, as Susan was very excited by it all and wandered off. But don’t worry papa; we found our way back all seven times! _

_ So far it has been 29 days, 14 hours, and 31 seconds since your departure, and the meals keep getting better! This morning we had an honest helping of Belgian waffles with blood orange sauce. I even made sure to finish all of my cold milk. I’ll be sure to get much stronger. Mrs. Perry has thanked me many times for your “generous contribution to our school’s well-being” but I’m not to sure what she means. It’s no matter, though; I’m enjoying it all the same! _

_ ̶ ~~A̶l̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶w̶here B̶e̶t̶t̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶j̶e̶w̶e̶l̶r̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶s̶l̶o̶w̶l̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶s̶a̶p̶p̶e̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶.̶.̶.̶.̶~~ Lola has introduced me to some very funny games. One of which includes a spinning top and some delicious chocolates. She says that her family plays it on a special holiday, but I can’t pronounce it quite well. I doubt that spelling it would be much help, either. An older girl has offered to teach me the game of conkers. While the acorns run in high supply as winter comes, the real trouble is finding one that is good enough to withstand the game, she’s told me. The girl’s name is Danielle, have I told you, papa? She prefers Danny; what an odd nickname for a girl! I do admit I find it quite charming anyway.  _

_ I’ve been staying out of too much trouble, papa.. I did have a small incident a few weeks ago that I wasn’t prepared to share with you, so I suppose I’ll say it now. I was very innocently going downstairs for a glass of water because I was completely parched. And I just  happened  to bump into Miss Morgan while I was down there. All in all, I didn’t really get into trouble, I was just sent to my room (without my water, might I add) and felt a bit strange about leaving that rude little girl behind... _

_ That was Mircalla, the girl I believe I’ve mentioned exactly four times before, has not bothered me as often. I sometimes care to speak to her, though, and she seems just as disinterested as the first time. It’s all very frustrating. I wouldn’t like to ignore the girl; she doesn’t seem to speak with anyone but those heavy books she carries around ~~…. ̶I̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶n̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶’̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶ ̶~~ _

_ I am enjoying my stay.. I will continue writing to you as often as I am allowed until the day you come back to me, papa. I love you very very much. _

 

_ Your Knight,  _

 

_ Laura Jane Hollis  _

 

Laura looked the piece of parchment over thoroughly, making sure to include everything she could possibly remember from the past week. Though she’d begun with sending her father a letter every day, she’d begun to run out of things to write about. The small honey-brunette had decided that once a week should be just enough. 

And although Laura had only received two letters in return, she didn’t mind all that much. She imagined that her father was very busy winning the war. 

Laura hopped up from her position on the carpet, where she’d placed herself to write. She knew that writing atop a desk would be a bit simpler, but writing with a quill on carpet made the letters much more rounded and fun. 

A loud crash perked Laura’s attention. She stood quickly, and accidentally knocked  over the small ink pot she’d used for her letter. With a cringe, she looked over the blackening carpet as the onyx ink seeped into it, but a yell from outside had her nearly running out of her bedroom, her honey-blonde curls whipping at her face. Laura leaned over the balcony to look down at the ground floor. There she saw a very defensive looking Danny, who was looking over Lottie. 

The tiny blonde was clearly throwing some sort of tantrum; her little fists were pounding into the dark wood along with the toes of her shoes. All the while, Lottie was screaming bloody murder. Laura hurried downstairs to meet Danny. 

Lottie’s yells were childish and angry, and Laura just barely heard Danny over the hands she kept firmly over her ears, her father’s letter held tightly in one. 

        “Sorry about this Laura; Lottie has these episodes every few weeks!” Danny shouted over Lottie’s screams. 

Laura felt a tug of confusion. While she herself remembered very little of having fits, she knew that tantrums of this severity didn’t happen without probable cause. 

Danny gave a growl of frustration and shook her red hair out. “I’ll get Mrs. Perry. There’s no telling how long Lottie will be at it!” And with that, Danny had run off. 

Laura stayed, staring at the writhing child on the ground. 

Then, she made a decision. 

 

She set her papa’s letter down onto the ground beside her and promptly sat down. 

Lottie seemed to have not noticed, continuing her fit. 

Laura brought her own hands down from her ears, and tilted her head. Lottie’s usual angel-like features were contorted angrily, tears streaking down the toddler’s face. It reminded Laura of a small geyser, spewing frustratedly until it gave its burst of anger. Laura crawled closer to the littler child. 

      “Y’know, it’s very hard to write to my papa with you kicking and screaming like that.”

 

Lottie seemed to have heard, but didn’t cease her tantrum. 

 

Laura glanced down for a moment. “I’m sure you can write very well. You must have a very grand imagination. But of course, it’s hard to write well when you’re angry. The letters get all misshapen had folded. Writing while sad isn’t much better. Tears taint the parchment, and it’s all very messy-”

        “I WAN’ MY MUMMY!” Lottie screamed. 

Laura’s breath caught. She wasn’t expecting that response. Laura smiled, nodding eagerly. “You’ll see her soon; we’ll be having a parent visit in the parlor in just a few weeks-”

       “No I WOEN’! Mummys DEAD and I woen’ ever see her!” Lottie’s kicks to the ground became more exaggerated. 

Laura didn’t pity Lottie. It wasn’t uncommon for children to be separated from their parents. Laura did, however, sympathize with the small child. Laura sat back on her legs, hands folded in her lap. “Well...I don’t have a mother either.” 

This seemed to resonate with Lottie. 

 

Her kicks and punches slowed until she was still. 

 

Suddenly, Lottie presented her tear stained face and puffy eyes to Laura. “You...doen’?” 

Laura shook her head softly. 

Lottie considered this. The small blonde sat up, cross-legged. Her tiny hands wiped at her own cheeks before staring up at Laura. 

Laura gave a small sigh of relief that the noise was over, but she too crossed her legs and scooted closer to Lottie, using her own hands to brush at Lottie’s soft round cheeks. “She’s in heaven, with all of the other angels.”

        “Your mummy is an angel?” 

Laura smiled, playing with Lottie’s hair. It had an angelic glow to it in the afternoon light. The eleven- year-old briefly considered angels that could be lingering on Earth itself. But she answered Lottie first. “Of course, and so is yours! They live in a place so beautiful, that only angels are allowed to enter. But my momma has told me all about it!” Laura sighed dreamily. “And I talk to her all the time. I tell her everything!”

Lottie wiped at her eyes again. “How?”

       “Well, sometimes it can be a little difficult when we’re not happy. They send messages on sunbeams that reach us whenever they can. When it’s rainy, or when we stay in the dark for too long, it can be a little harder for them to send them. But they’ll try again.” 

Lottie was staring up at the elder girl with wide, curious eyes. It was like she was seeing magic happen right in front of her. 

Laura took the time to make her face stern. “But of course, you can’t hear the messages if you were kicking and screaming as loudly as you were.” 

The four-year-old’s eyes downcast slightly, wiping at her nose. 

       “They  _ always  _ try again. Just in case we’ve missed it.” 

Lottie cheered up after this, a determined look in her big silvery eyes. “Say more about magic, Miss Lauwa.” 

At this, Laura wrapped the smaller girl up in her arms, and Lottie made herself comfortable when Laura spoke again. 

       “They have huge silky wings made of millions of feathers. They wear long fluffy robes and crowns of baby rosebuds. And they speak in soft whispers; they never yell. They watch over us, and make sure we’re alright.” Laura’s grin widened when Lottie giggled. 

         “So they can see wa’ we’re doing?”

Laura nodded. “Yep! Every bit of it. So that’s why you have to be good. So one day, when they come to get you, they’ll be so happy to talk with you about all of the wonderful things you did.”

Lottie sniffled and considered this seriously, and all was quiet for a moment. 

 

“That’s a laugh.” 

 

Laura looked up. 

Mircalla was there, standing underneath the archway that lead back to the tea room. She had an unreadable look plastered across her doll-face. She was glaring down at Laura and Lottie from a few feet away. 

Lottie, having caught Mircalla’s appearance, didn’t seem at all surprised that the older girl was speaking. In fact, the little blonde sat up, and rubbed at her eyes gently. Laura gave Mircalla a harsh scowl. “What do you want, Mircalla? I don’t recall you ever having in interest in anything I’ve said to you before.” 

The dark brunette scoffed, crossing her small arms. “I’m not interested in what you’re saying to me. I’m interesting in what you’re telling to Lottie.”

Laura stared the other girl down; Lottie seemed indifferent to the situation. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, really-”

“It is.” Mircalla cut off. “Filling these children’s heads with idiot stories, filling them with the hope that things will get better….it's really ridiculous.” The brunette scoffed. 

Laura’s eyes were hard and unwavering. A part of her was surprised that Mircalla wasn’t able to spit actual poison like some sort of slippery dragon. Lottie had left without Laura even taking note, chasing after a small moth that had gotten in. 

It was just the two of them in the main hall now. 

            “Mircalla, it’s nothing like that-”

            “My name is  _ Carmilla. _ ” 

“Don’t lie!” Laura shot back, letting her disbelief getting the best of her temper. “I’m not lying to Lottie. Anything you can imagine can be real, and it makes you feel better. Hope isn’t a bad thing!” Laura just about had enough of this girl. “But you’re lying!”

“I am not.” Mircalla said casually, seemingly disinterested again. 

Laura’s small fists shook at her sides. “You are too!” She huffed, realizing how childish she’d begun to sound, picking fights.

“Those fairytales don’t do anyone any good.”

“Just stop!” Laura had had enough. “Believe what you want. But I won’t take hope away from anyone. Everyone deserves to be hopeful and happy, and no one should be able to take happiness away from anyone. Not even from you,  _ Carmilla. _ ”

Laura left the small brunette standing wide-eyed in the hall. 

* * *

_Afternoon_

 

          “Susan dear, it’s your turn.” Lola chirped as she collected the rest of her faux earnings from off of the patio table, while Laura concentrated on arranging her own into a flower shape. They were just finishing up a solid round of Tambaroora (without any sort alcohol, of course) in which Lola had kindly beat them all with her suspiciously lucky dice rolls. 

When the straight haired girl did not respond, Lola’s pale green eyes flickered upwards. “Susan?”

        “I don’t like being Susan.”

Laura turned her attention to the small redhead, who’s eyes were cast downward nervously. 

Lola giggled, indifferent. “But you  _ are _ Susan.” 

Susan huffed, palms sweating. “No! I mean…” she appeared to be in serious thought about the matter, her tongue between her teeth. “I don’t like being _called_ Susan.” 

Lola still seemed unphased, and handed Susan the dice they’d used for the game. “You can change your legal name after you complete a certain age, y’know.”

Laura clapped her small hands together. “Oh! Maybe you’ll pick something like Ruby, Or Sapphire...or Garnet!” 

Lola’s eyebrow rose. “Why all of the rock names?” to which Laura shrugged. 

Susan, however, just seemed to have grown more frustrated with the situation. “That’s not it either!” With a detached huff, Susan slumped back into the metal chair. “Nevermind. Let’s just keep playing.” 

At this, Lola seemed genuinely concerned, she pushed her bright orange hair back from across the table, and looked seriously at the other girl. “Susan, what do you-”

“THE INK!” Laura shot up from the chair and nearly knocked over their game, flailing. Her eyes were wide with remembrance. She hastily excused herself and hurried back inside, allowing a strained. “Sorry---need to clean!” over her shoulder at the confused pair of redheads as she ran. 

Susan turned to Lola with an amused grin. “You’re really getting close with Laura, aren’t you?” 

to which the curly redhead laughed at. 

 

…

Laura rushed upstairs, nearly slipping on the polished hardwood, with a damp towel in her grip that she had hastily dipped in warm, soapy water. Hopefully it would be enough to get out most of the black from the carpet that had been left to dry over the course of a few hours, after Lottie had had her fit. 

Laura pushed open the door with her raised forearm, and hurried inside, only to find Mrs. Perry with a mucky rag and some boxed soap. Laura’s gaze turned towards the sangria carpet, where it seemed the stain left earlier had completely vanished. Laura grinned sheepishly at Mrs. Perry. “Hi there. Well, if I’m not needed here then I’ll just---”

“Hold on there, stallion. Come here a minute.” Mrs. Perry warned, holding out a brown rag with an amused smile. 

Laura took it and proceeded to help Mrs. Perry pick up. 

“You’d ought to take better care of this room, Laura. It’s very special.” 

“It’s spacious.” Laura commented. “I would have preferred having someone help fill it for longer than a few days. 

Mrs. Perry looked curiously saddened, but only for a moment. 

Laura didn’t comment, though suspicion rose. “So then....where hs Betty gone?” She hadn’t meant to be forward about it, but Laura was never one for subtlety. 

Mrs. Perry turned to Laura with those bright blue eyes that reminded Laura so much of Lola. Mrs. Perry almost seemed desperate, if only for a moment. “Laura dear, do you know what room this is?” 

Laura smiled thoughtfully. “My room?”

“Well yes, it is. But before it was your room, it was many other little girls' rooms as well. One of which was your mother.”

Laura’s honey-brown eyes widened thoughtfully.”Was it really? It felt a bit familiar...not that I’d ever been here personally, but it felt comforting to be here all the same. 

“Yes, Ana would have been around my own age by now. She was such a lovely young lady....”

Laura loved hearing about her mother, she really did. Her father would tell her beautiful stories of their adventures and their romance. It seemed like a fairytale in itself. Miss Perry had apparently been in the same graduating class as Laura’s own mother. She spoke fondly of the woman, and let Laura in on all of her hard-earned accomplishments during her time spent at the school. 

“So then Miss Morgan was a student as well?”

Miss Perry gave a nervous chuckle, to which Laura caught onto. “Oh, heavens, no! Our Dean is actually much older than she would care to let on. The Morgan family has owned this mansion and many other sections of town for a good while, when the Duke of York was granted the land upon conquest from the Dutch.Oh, but enough of that,” Miss Perry patted Laura’s small back. “You’d best go join my darlings, Lola and Susan, again. I’m sure I’ve taken up your company.” 

Laura did her best to nod. “Thank you for your stories.”

“Your mother was a wonderful woman, Laura. You should be very proud of who you are.”

Laura gave a watery smile. Was there more to Mrs. Perry’s tale of woe? Laura was quite sure that there was. 

She’d find out. 

 

* * *

 

The shops of the city reminded Laura nothing of the ones from her home, but they were beautiful all the same. A bit on the dreary side, where the homeless beggars scuffled about and mixed with the fur-coated wealthy. The line was clearly drawn between the two classes, and Laura couldn’t help but wonder about what it was like on the other side.

The hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers filled her ears; carriages and flivvers of all kinds clucked along the newly constructed roads. The air was tainted faintly with sickly smog, but the bite of winter chased most of it away. 

It reminded Laura somewhat of her first day in the city. Her father had taken her to purchase anything she’d wanted, but Laura knew that her father was not very wealthy, and had settled on a few playthings, whilst he splurged on necessities. 

The rain from the days prior had collected in the pavement dips, and the children took the time to stomp in every puddle despite the protests from their wetter victims. And when entering a shop, they took careful time in wiping their shoes on the appropriate rugs to prevent tracking mud. The shops were aligned on either side of the street, where pedestrians and carriages alike were going about their way. 

Laura had taken the liberty of immediately heading towards the toy shoppe, with Susan and Lola in tow. Lola took the time to alert her mother of their whereabouts while the other children stayed within their group.

They spent hours hopping from shop to shop, through the bakery and clothing rails, and even taking the time to sit in contentment at the park. Lola had a particular pair of mitts that she’d been eyeing (which Susan had carefully noticed), and Laura’s birthday was fast approaching. Laura had remembered the fact when Mrs. Perry not-so-subtly suggested that everyone should take a day trip to shop for their loved ones. It was, in fact, the school’s job to make sure that Laura’s party was a most wonderful (and expensive) extravaganza. After all, Captain Hollis had supplied the school with all of his earnings to ensure Laura’s happiness and safety. 

While Laura had her mittened hands pressed against a shoppe window, she duly noticed that Susan and Lola had actually entered. The honey-blonde was too enticed with the delicate trinkets that twinkled just behind the patterned glass. An array of German hand-made carousel toys spun slowly on one side, and beautiful sets of jewelry on the other. Laura suspected that some of them were made entirely of precious jewels. 

And then, she noticed another reflection in the window in front of her. Laura stumbled back a foot, before huffing angrily. “Don’t you care to announce yourself?”

Mircalla, adorned in a grey coat lined with black fur, was standing little ways away from Laura, staring into the shoppe window. “Why should I?”

Laura didn’t like how she’d responded to a question with yet another question. That couldn’t be lady-like at all.“So as to not frighten people when they’re minding their own!”

Mircalla shrugged, frowning. “Maybe you should pay more attention.But I suppose it would be hard to burst that sparkly bubble in your brain.”

Laura stuck her pointer fingers in each of her ears. “There’s no bubble in my head!” 

Mircalla scoffed. “It’s a metaphor. God, they’re right about what’s said, ignorance is bliss.” 

“I’m  _ not  _ ignorant.” Laura challenged. 

“Can you even  _ spell  _ ignorant?”

Laura puffed her cheeks in retaliation her mittens flailing. 

The dark brunette eyed the other small girl. “You look very much like a newborn hedgehog when you do that, y’know.” 

Laura looked away, rubbing over her own arms in an attempt to warm up. She realized that Mircalla’s little intrusion had kept her from going inside of the shop. “What do you want, Mircalla?”

“ _ Carmilla _ .” Mircalla corrected with a raised brow. 

Little Laura stared at the girl with disbelief.  _ ‘She was still going on about that?’  _

“L! Are you coming?” Danny called, her bright orange hair, which was neatly gathered in a braid, stuck out from the doorway of the shoppe. 

Laura called back immediately. “Be right there!”

The little porcelain-skinned girl looked away. “You’re friends with lanky Raggedy Anne?” 

Laura’s face scrunched. “Danny is not lanky!” Although, she did wonder who Raggedy Anne was…

Mircalla seemed, yet again, disinterested in Laura’s outburst. She almost looked amused. “Alright, alright. Sheesh, it’s nothing to write home about.”

“Well, you’re a bit of a stuffed shirt too, so there! And maybe if you wouldn't  criticize others so much, you wouldn’t be without friends. ” 

Mircalla seemed ready to retaliate, but Laura stomped her way into the shop. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she’d just managed to catch Mircalla wander off, alone. 

...

When they’d returned, Laura caught a few girls sneaking giggles in her direction and attempting to conceal their recently purchased gifts. Laura smiled excitedly and pretended not to notice everything they’d bought for her. But the little darling had since decided that as long as her new friends were attending, it mattered not how festive her party would be. 

Laura had even noticed Mircalla, who was still adorning the long, grey, expensive looking coat, carrying up a small royal blue bag upstairs into the attic. She no longer questioned Mircalla’s intrusion into the higher floor, as Laura had never seen her enter one of the regular boarding rooms that the rest of the girls slept in. Perhaps Mircalla had the entirety of the higher floor to herself, with expensive new furniture and all the toys a kid could ever ask for (although Laura had a feeling that Mircalla was a bit too mature for toys). After all, Mircalla had to have come from wealthy parents;  if her clothing and poise were anything to go by. 

‘ _ A luxury suit! _ ’ Laura thought excitedly.

The rest of her day was spent trying to subtly explain where she’d gone after her ink spill to Lola and Susan, with a side helping of a promise of a beautiful and wonderful birthday. 

That day was fast approaching. Laura only thought it appropriate to subtly remind her father with yet another letter. 

 

_          My Dearest Papa,  _

_ I’d like you to guess the special day that is coming up very soon. Well, I can’t really hold you to answering right away, of course. But it’s alright, I’ll answer on your behalf, papa! It just so happens that the Tuesday of next week---weather predicted by our finest weathermen to be a lovely sunny day---happens to fall directly on my birthday! The very same!  _

_ The school staff have been preparing for quite some time, I’ve seen. I’m aware that it’s my date of birth, but the party is meant to be a surprise. I don’t see how that can be. _

_And after that, I’ll be one year away from finishing my child years. Then I’ll finish my schooling, and maybe after, I’ll enlist as a boy to help with the war effort._ _If there is still a war, that is. ~~I wonder if Susan would join me…~~_ _But of course, that is still quite far away._

_ Papa, I miss you terribly, and I think of you every day. My head is alright here, but my heart is not full without you. When you return, I would like to talk with you about my boarding room. I didn’t ask Mrs. Perry to tell me, but I believe I’ve known for some time now. Thank you, papa.  _

_ Your Knight,  _

_ Laura Jane Hollis.  _

_ (p.s., Do you think that it would be alright if we visit some friends over our school year break? Lola’s invited me over to meet her father returns from his nursework at war. I’m sure you two would get along!  _

_ (p.s.s, Is it appropriate to buy gifts for others when it’s your own birthday? I should hope so. If not, then I suppose I’ll just have more packing to do!) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try to enjoy the slow burn. It's a flowery foundation. 
> 
> (All games, items, and slang are in direct reference to the time period presented.) 
> 
> As always, I do request 5 more kudos for its continuation. The next chapter has already been written, so it should be up as soon as our goal is reached. 
> 
> Thank you, loves.  
> -BabyDoll


	5. False Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very special little girl has a very interesting birthday party.

[False Hope ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UgCmrp9MHI)

 

_November_

It was late in the afternoon when the winter parent visitations began. Mrs. Morgan had even brought in an 8-man string orchestra to play for their guests, who were lead by a man named Wallace Hartley, an English violinist. The beautifully smooth noise was quite plucky. 

 

Laura, dressed in a pressed and primed uniform, was standing atop the mansion balcony with Susan.  Although Susan was giving a cool persona, Laura could see that from the red head’s shoulders shaking slightly that she was quite nervous. Laura tugged the bow placed delicately behind Susan’s head, ensuring that it was perfectly straight. Then she placed her small hands atop Susan’s shaking shoulders. “There, all set! Your mother and father will be so happy to see you.” 

Susan didn’t seem too convinced. “My parents loathe coming here. Say that they don’t really belong…”

Laura seemed skeptical. “Well if they believe that, then why do they send you?” 

Susan huffed. “Because they want me to belong.” 

The ground below was suddenly very active. Playful laughs and greetings poured into the floor, and the scent of expensive colognes and perfumes wafted their way up to even the balcony. 

Susan glanced over the railing once more before starting her way down the staircase. She turned to Laura for a moment. “Would you care to join us? I’m sure my folks would love to meet you!” 

“Later, maybe. My papa will be arriving.” Laura said with a smile, before turning back towards the crowd below, consisting of adults and children alike. The honey brunette spotted Lottie down below with her uncle, who appeared to be older than Laura had imagined but was adorned in only the finest suit and coat available (although it was an odd purple color). Laura rested her cheek on the railing. Her father would strut in on a fine looking war horse, higher than the clouds themselves. He’d be adorned in his uniform, his war medals polished and proud. But then he’d smile real big and open his arms to his daughter. He’d be so proud that she’d been good!

Laura nodded certainly, not worried at all about the meeting. Even if he hadn’t brung her those biscuits she’d asked for...

And then suddenly she spotted him (well, the back of him) adorned in an unusual uniform, leaving through the front door. Laura’s eyes went wide.

“Papa!”she squealed, rushing down the stairs with one hand on the polished railing. 

She pushed her way through the large adults with a few rapid grunts; now was not the time for politeness. In fact, most of them hardly noticed the little girl at all, as she squeezed her way through lardy old men and pearl-necked women to try and get to the front door, where she could see the back side of her papa disappearing through the embroidered double doors.

After she’d managed to push her way to the door, she smoothed out her pearly winter ensemble and rectified the white ribbon in her hair. With a grin, she shoved open the doors after her father and as greeted with the unwelcoming bite of a cold winter’s evening. It was of little concern, though, as her father was only a few yards away! 

Laura ran to the man and grabbed at his wrist, tugging him towards her. “Papa! Papa I-”

 

“Unhand me! What is the meaning of this?” 

 

His voice was high-pitched and unfamiliar, and it made Laura recoil out of shock. 

As the man turned, Laura saw that he had many wrinkles on his worn face and an upturned handlebar mustache. Then, he suddenly, he leaned down towards the small, frightened child and withdrew a worn pouch from his expensive coat. “Ah, you’re from that girl’s seminary I strolled into, are you not? I suspect you know when you’ll be shipped off, then.” 

Laura realized that her small hand still clung to his sleeve and she jumped back as though she’d been burned. Laura took quick breaths and she took a few steps back, one of her hands fiddled with her mother’s necklace. Laura shook her head quickly, eyes wide. 

The man’s frown disappeared. “No?” 

Laura swallowed, and nodded as best she could. 

The man grunted, standing upright again. “How interesting. It’s no matter. That school of your sends us enough to fill an entire factory…” 

Laura backed up a few more times. Without a word towards the ugly-looking man she turned quickly and ran back to the school, opening and shutting the doors behind her. Most of the adults still hadn’t noticed her entrance, and she felt her eyes sting as she searched for someone, anyone, familiar to her. When she found none, Laura rushed back up the stairs, noticing that Lottie and Carmilla were there talking with each other, dressed finely. Lottie was spinning in her little white gown until she spotted Laura taking cautious steps around her. 

“Hello Miss Lauwa!”

Laura, although she’d wanted to be quite alone until her father had arrived, stopped anyway. She subtly took a deep breath. “Hello Lottie. Are you having fun?”

Lottie wasn’t a child who could be easily fooled, it seemed, as she peered up at Laura with wide eyes.”What’s wrong Miss Lauwa? Where is your papa? I wan’ to see his sword!” 

Laura winced. Perhaps she had ever-so-slightly exaggerated what she’d imagined her father’s entrance would be… “I suspect he’ll be here soon. Until then I think I’ll be up in my room for a bit.” 

Lottie peered up at her and Laura continued to feel bright gray eyes boring into her back even as she’d nearly disappeared into her room. She’d been in the process of closing the large double doors when her eyes met a lonely-looking Mircalla’s own from across the hall. She did her best to look away, but their gazes held even as the door shut in front of her. 

Laura felt heat on her face and reached up to tap at the tear that had slid down her cheek. She now knew why Mircalla had been staring at her, but Laura was alone in her room now. 

There, she sat upon her bed, staring down at her wet shoes.

 

She’d probably tracked mud all the way up. 

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Laura received her father’s letter a week after the incident. 

She’d sat outside on a dark granite bench,  and took to swinging her short legs when she found that they didn’t touch the ground. Her father’s letter came crumped at the ends and smudged with oils and gunpowder, but her father’s writing remained the same. Laura took some comfort in this. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Addressed to 

Laura Jane Hollis 

Morgan’s Select Seminary For Young Ladies

November 21, 1914. 

 

_ My Dearest Laura,  _

_ Unfortunately, I will be unable to join you and your friends on the day of the winter meeting. I am very sorry for this, but the situation here is less than favorable. I am doing all I can for you, my Laura.  I should hope that this reaches you on time. If it should not, I’ll be sure to give the postman a right good spanking for his incompetence.  _

 

_ All my love,  _

_ Your papa.  _

  
  


Laura smoothed out the worn parchment with a huff and a smile. It was short and to the point and not at all what Laura had expected, but it was enough. She knew her father would have had a reason not to attend, but she still felt a little sad. It was no matter, though, as she had a more pressing issue to attend to herself. 

Her writing project. 

It was a little silly, really. They were to write a piece on an inspirational person, and share it with a few other pupils. Once finished, they were to hand it over to their professor to be evaluated. Laura took it to mean anyone, and of course, she’d already written numerous pieces on her father’s heroism, so Laura had chosen to write her paper on a suffragette named  Emmeline Pankhurst.

Apparently, their stories could not be “overly fabricated” and Laura took that to mean that she simply couldn’t include the many magic powers suffragettes wielded. 

Once she had finished and what satisfied with her work,  she chose to share her story with Mircalla. 

When the honey blonde had found Mircalla, she seemed to have been taking a stroll along the school grounds. 

What child ever took a  _ strol _ l? It was a very queer thing to do, Laura thought. But, she joined the other girl anyway, and was met with the same disinterested and borderline angry persona that Mircalla bore so often. 

Laura made her presence known when she skipped the small girl’s side, the parchment in her hand crinkled slightly with the movement 

“Hello! We have the same assignment and I’d wanted to share my work with either Lola or Susan but they’ve already seemed to have shared with one another. Would you like to share your work? I bet it’s lovely!” 

Mircalla didn’t spare the smaller girl a glance. “No.” 

The honey blonde pouted. Even after the short time that she’d been here, she knew that Mircalla did not have many friends, if any at all. Laura had originally sought to fix this, and her mission hadn’t wavered. 

Laura noticed that she and Mircalla were not so different in height, and this somehow boosted Laura’s confidence. She spoke again. “Well, I suppose I’ll just read mine anyway.” She cleared her throat before she began, and heard Mircalla sigh harshly. 

“Once upon a time-”

“Right--- that’s enough for me.” Mircalla halted, turning towards Laura fully. She snatched the parchment out of a shocked-looking Laura’s hand. 

Laura suddenly felt quite bothered now that Mircalla had not only addressed her, but was  now scrutinizing her written work with all the sternness of a seminary nun. She noticed the dark haired girl glance up to meet her nervous gaze a few times, before Mircalla handed back her paper. Laura took it quickly. 

“It’s fine, I suppose. Besides the overuse of the word magic and the frighteningly unrealistic circumstances….it’s not bad.” 

Laura was more bothered with the fact that Mircalla had given her a compliment (kind of) than the fact that the dark-haired girl had read an entire story in about a minute flat. She hid her hands behind her back. “Thank you. You read that fairly quickly.”

“I read often.”

“Oh.” Now  that she’d finally managed to gain Mircalla’s attention, Laura, surprisingly, hadn’t had much to say. She found this quite odd. 

They stood there a moment longer as Laura shuffled awkwardly and Mircalla remained passive. 

_ Curses!  _ Laura had planned so many intelligent retaliations just for the moment that Mircalla decided to look at her for more than a few seconds, but now, Laura just felt awkward. So she rambled. 

“Well, it’s actually based on a few stories that my father used to tell me. They’re nothing like the Brother’s Grimm though. It’s a bit more like mixing together real things with those that are not; it’s really interesting!”  

Mircalla shrugged. “If you like that sort of thing.” 

Laura bounced on her heels, searching for something to say. “Have you shared your piece with anyone yet?” 

Mircalla’s dark eyes wandered. “Maybe later. I haven’t finished.” her pace quickened slightly and Laura bounced along like an irritated rabbit.

“You should hurry, it’s due very soon. Would you like any help? I’d say I’m not too bad at this sort of thing-”

“I’m much smarter than you are. I don’t need help.” Mircalla spoke sharply. 

Laura’s bounce turned to more of a walk. “Well yes, probably. But-” 

“I can do this by myself, like always.” Mircalla finished, and Laura realized that they were at the main doors of the school once again. Had they really made a full round? 

Mircalla stepped up to the first set, as she had apparently decided she no longer wanted to converse. Before heading inside, however, she turned to see a rather disappointed looking Laura at the bottom of the steps. “But, thank you. For asking.” 

Laura scrunched her nose in a smile as Mircalla stepped inside. 

  
  
  


~

  
  


Laura’s party was one one of many grand events that happened at the select seminary every so often, but it was no doubt one of the most expensive. After Captain Hollis had sent his apology letter, little did his child know that he had sent more of his savings to Miss Morgan’s bank for his daughter’s birthday. After Mrs Perry had handed the Dean the fat stack of money, it seemed as though the entire mansion was buzzing about in preparation. 

Laura took note, of course, and attempted to remain carefully calm. 

_ Attempted.  _

“What color balloons will they string up? Green ones, like our dresses? Oh well that means that everything will have to match. That’s no fun. And the cake? A green cake?” Laura made small hops around the room as she thought aloud. 

Lola laughed. “That’ll repulse the young ones. Won’t go anywhere near their leafy greens, but’ll get grass stains all up their backsides!”

Laura had the decency to look sheepish; she and Susan had been having the grandest time rolling down the patches of lawn that weren't completely dried out. Then, she glanced around. ¨Where is Susan?”

Lola shrugged, and the smaller girl laughed. “Well, that’s a little strange…”

Lola stood abruptly and paced over to Laura’s drawers, where she began fixing the haphazardly-folded garments. “What is strange?”

“That you’re not with Susan. You two are like red glue.” Laura said matter-o-factly. 

Lola’s back was turned to Laura, so she couldn’t see the scarlet creeping its way across Lola’s face. 

 

A familiar warm scent was wafting it’s way into the room, and Laura big Lola a goodbye to go and follow it. 

She followed it all the way down to the kitchen, where a melting pot seemed to be turning with melted chocolate and near it, a layered vanilla cake sat plainly on the countertop. 

Laura grinned and made her way over, when she heard a squeal and a yelp. At first when she thought the must have startled a small animal, she instead found a girl as young as herself, staring wide-eyed through her large spectacles. Laura could see chocolate smeared across her mouth and dark skin, and Laura grinned. 

“Hello! Did you smell it too? I loveee chocolate!” Laura had only just noticed that the girl’s clothes were worn and tattered, and that she wore a white bonnet over her puffy brown curls. 

 

“Sorry ma’am, I wasn’t- I was helping Mrs. Perry, you see-” I didn mean to eat any of ‘er chocolate, I didn’t ma’am-” The girl attempted to wipe herself clean with a dirty sleeve, but Laura recognized her as the young girl who had assisted the servants. Was she a servant too?

“I’m Laura! What’s your name?” 

The girl responded shyly and seemed quite flustered, as if she was telling a secret. “M-melanippe Callis, miss!” 

“Mellll-annnee- eee- pey?” 

“Callis, ma’am.” 

“Melanipecalis?” 

“Melanippe Callis.” 

“Ah! Nice to meet you, Mel!” Laura grinned decidedly, reaching forward to grasp the other girls hand. 

The other girl winced harshly and Laura let her go. She noticed that the girls hand was marked up in angry red blotches, and Laura’s hazel eyes widened. “What happened to your hand?!”

Mel, as Laura had nicknamed her, gave a sheepish look. “Burned it when I was tryin’ for some of that there chocolate. I know ‘m not s’possed too, but it’s too temptin!” 

Laura quickly took to wrapping a wet cloth around the itching burn. She tugged Mel over to the water pump. “Keep running it under…”

Mel stared at Laura with wide, sparkling eyes. She pushed up her specs with her good hand. “Oh, someone ‘s as nice as you shouldn’ be ‘elpin a servant like me!” 

Laura shook her head. What nonsense! “Why shouldn’t I be? You may be a servant, but you’re not a slave!” 

“I may’s well be, miss. Seein’ as though the tone of my skin isn’t like your own.” Mel said definitely. 

Laura’s brows came together. “That makes no sense at all. Your skin is lovely, Mel!” 

Mel gave a deep blush and Laura smiled kindly at the girl. 

She’d also come to the conclusion that Mel had never had much proper schooling, “I could teach you a few things. I’m pretty good at some things, but I could ask Susan and Lola to help out!”

“Oh miss I wouldn’ want to get you into trouble-”

“Of course not, it’s my birthday soon! I couldn’t get punished, really!”

 

Laura nodded to herself. Her birthday would be wonderful! 

 

~

 

The night was cold and snowy and lovely, and it made a wonderful crunch under Laura’s beautifully made boots as she made her way to the post box. Laura  stared down at the letter with a small smile, giving it a quick peck of luck before slipping into the box. She’d hoped her father would receive it very soon. 

The night twinkled and reflected in her bright eyes, and as a small snowflake melted on her cheek, Laura found herself giggling. She’d not given much attention to the man that was hastily making his way towards the front of her school just a few yards away. 

She glanced up at the man, who’d only given her a second of his time before heavily treading up the concrete steps and disappearing into the open door. 

  
Two new faces popped up right after his disappearance. “Laura! It’s cake time!” Susan grinned, while Lottie bounced giddily.

 

Laura’s brows furrowed curiously, but now was not the time to get hung up over strangers while there was a beautiful party going on in her honor. 

She hiked up her dress with a smile and ran inside, leaving the snowy calm to be alone with the dark of night. 

 

When inside, Laura was greeted with bright smiles and the laughter of children, although the attention wasn’t directed at her. The children were being entertained by what seemed to be a small monkey dressed in classic Romani attire, and seemed to be content with shaking hands with the children who were brave enough to step forward, giggling whenever the small mammal’s hoots rose to a higher pitch. 

  
  


No one but Laura had noticed a disheveled looking Mrs. Perry slip into the room, her pale face streaked with lines of tears that threatened to turn full-flowing. 

The little brunette trotted over, temporarily forgetting the game and not being bothered to retaliate when another young girl tapped her shoulder and shouted, “Laura’s the pickled peach!” 

No, Laura’s eyes were trained on Mrs. Perry’s heaving chest and swallowing throat; she couldn’t bring herself to look into the redheaded woman’s empty and glossy blue eyes, which were normally full of joy and motherly love. 

 

“Laura, darling…” Her voice was full to the brim with emotion and it cracked in multiple places. She outstretched a pale, shaking hand for a moment, reaching out for the small, perplexed child before immediately retracting her hand at the sound of double doors being burst open. 

Miss Morgan strode in dressed fully in black (Laura noticed that Mrs. Perry had taken on a similar fashion) and suddenly the room full of children became still and silent. Mrs. Morgan spoke bitterly. “This celebration had ended. It is required of all of you to prepare for bed. Immediately.” 

None of the children dared to move an inch yet. 

“Miss Hollis,” Morgan’s eyes trained on the second smallest child in the room, her expression hard and unreadable. “You are to stay.” 

Laura had never felt more pressed to run as fast as she could away from the room. 

“The rest of you are dismissed.” Lilita finished, and when no one dared move, she barked out a stinging “Now!” and they scattered as quickly as they could. 

Laura caught Perry’s face, wide-eyed and afraid, staring after her until Susan had tugged the other redhead away. Once the room was empty save for Miss Morgan, Mrs. Perry, and Laura, the tall blonde spoke again. 

“Miss Hollis. If you will follow me.” then she turned stiffly on her heal, her spine as rigid than ever, and regally strode out of the room. 

Laura spotted Mrs. Perry in the corner of the room, attempting to stifle her sobs into her hand, and Laura prepared herself. 

She walked stiffly over to Morgan’s chambers, stepping inside as the blonde woman shut the doors behind her, and Laura turned to glance outside one last time. 

 

As the heavy doors began to shut, Laura saw Mircalla staring at her from the middle of the hall, her eyes wide, fists balled at her sides, a black balloon tied around her small wrist. 

It burst suddenly, but Mircalla hadn’t seemed to have noticed. Her eyes had not left Laura’s. 

 

It was the first time Laura had ever seen Carmilla truly scared. 

 

~

“Sit down, Miss Hollis. We have much to discuss.” 

Laura sat in the same luxurious chair that she’d known since the first day of her enrollment. The day her papa had left. 

Miss Morgan seemed to be rustling through the right drawer on her writing desk. She pulled out official-looking pieces of parchment and slid them over to the small girl. “I trust you can read, Miss Hollis.” 

Laura’s eyes darted back and forth across the page. It seemed to be a list of MIA soldiers of sorts and Laura couldn’t bring herself to scan the entire packet. 

“We’ve only just received the news. The diamond mines have been claimed by the British government-” 

“What of my papa?” Laura spoke suddenly, firmly, and effectively cut Miss Morgan’s speech. 

“Miss Hollis there are procedures that must be followed with these kinds of events-” 

“ _ Where i _ s my papa?!” Laura snapped, and although for a moment she assumed Morgan would bite her head off, the blonde woman’s features remained neutral. 

 

Morgan only regarded her with a dismissive twitch of her thin lips. The platinum blonde removed her spectacles out of a show of remorse, though Laura couldn’t have been sure. She pinched the red marks left on her thin nose for a moment before staring at the child with dead eyes. 

Laura found that her lungs were burning, and realized that she’d not been breathing. It didn’t matter though, because Miss Morgan spoke the very sentence that had been plaguing the back of Laura’s mind like a cancer formed entirely of fear.

“It has been discovered, that your father, has died.” 

 

Laura’s entire world had come to a complete standstill, and she felt like she’d been thrown off, floating aimlessly in a cold and unforgiving emptiness. 

 

“As unfortunate as it seems, his will was never recovered. I’ve mentioned that his diamond mines were handed over to the British government; you’re essentially penniless. And you have no known relatives.” 

  
  


A single black balloon floated near the midway point in the corner of the room; it must had found its way in from Laura’s birthday party. 

_ Party. Happy. Party.  _

The words were strangely foreign to Laura, as if she’d never learned them at all. Her gaze followed the balloon as it stilled for a moment then inched along with the airflow, the silver string dragging it’s few longer inches along the velvet carpet. 

  
“You are  _ alone  _ in the world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay well this took way to long damn.   
> I'm working on a Carmilla animation that will hopefully be finished before the start of the third season. Check out updates on my twitter @ShayleeBabyDoll 
> 
> I love reviews.


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